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According to Ralph Waldo Emerson, down in the mud and the scum of things there alway alway something sings, and there I relish the symphonies of cicadas and peeper frogs, marvel at the underground cathedrals built by ants, and gaze upon the jeweled carapaces of beetles.

I’m an adult male with an powerful imagination. There’s an imaginary figure who has been very important to me since I was very young (probably since age 4 or 5 or maybe even younger). It’s never been an imaginary friend, so much as how I see myself, and how I envision the better part of me. It’s a damselfly-winged bullfrog. It’s a fairy prince,…[Read more]