On Mentors, the Cold of Singularity, and Giving Gifts to One’s Self

I'm sitting in a local coffee shop, a new book in my hands and on my my hidden tongue, behind my teeth, moving with the rhythm of the words as I speak them in my head.  Beside me, a cup of yerba mate steams against the cold from the window, and a arm buttermilk biscuit…


Lately I’ve had this feverish desire to just create – to make things and to get sucked into stories.  I was feeling this to some extent before I left for Ireland, but something about the beauty and peace and magic of it, paired with having some time and distance from home, brought my sense of this from focus to urgency.