I have an honest question for those in the back wringing their hands about the salaries on the Portland roster.
When was the last time the Trail Blazers ever managed to maximize cap space and lure a top free agent to the Pacific Northwest?
It’s been a nice run, enjoying the Timbers scrap their way to a playoff berth, and I’m keen to watch some more Arsenal in the English Premier League through the cooler months, but there’s only one team that I can profess to write about with any sense: the Portland Trail Blazers.
So last weekend I went camping with friends. We settled in a little campground near Mount Adams. We were without cell service and without agenda, relaxing under the regard of the peak, known to the native Yakama as Pahto. This is the poem I wrote about it all.
As I was scrolling through all my photos I took this summer, I rediscovered the type of messaging I needed. Even though I have plans for the Casual Camera, enjoy what might be the last gallery for a while. A collection of fresh moments, every moment, if you will.
I wrote the original version of this poem pretty quickly after Oregon Country Fair, inspired by showering after the festival. There are showers offered on the Fairgrounds, but those always ultimately have the impact of the rock of Sisyphus falling back down to the base of the mountain.
The fugue state continues, but a recent encounter with Lil Nas X on the “Old Town Road” has led to the only thing I can do: keep moving.
I finally feel like a functional human being again. It took about a week, but I am finally recovered from Oregon Country Fair and, in some ways, SOAK. While I’ve always needed some time to recover from Oregon Country Fair, this year in particular was an emotional, empowering yet ever challenging event. I helped run […]
Well I had something to be said about recovering from Oregon Country Fair and feeling like a normal human being again.
And then Ozzy Osbourne passed.
I am exhausted. Exhausted and afraid. I’ve been writing a lot about things that have happened. Things that have long since past. I am watching the news, filtered through headlines, wondering what the hell I am going to do. I want to write, but the pen feels heavy and the ideas feel sealed. They exist […]
I am trying to write a poem a day now, and it’s going well, despite my issues with routine. And confidence. And a crippling fear that if I bear my soul I will be judged for it. And that’s why I did not publish anything for a fortnight. But that fast ends now.
The Casual Ramble 