Calling kettle black
How come that sins are single slips of skin and not the iron fists of armored men? How come that honor comes from swords and not from words we carve […]
How come that sins are single slips of skin and not the iron fists of armored men? How come that honor comes from swords and not from words we carve […]
Writing about living in two places (and times)
Poems & Stories from The Author Stew
practising for a whole life
haikai poetry matters
Running in the slow lane
The view from here ... Or here!
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” — Albert Einstein
chronicling my quarter life crisis