Airports I Have Known

John F. Kennedy International Airport

Singular, mighty, labyrinthine, JFK is sub-metropolis to that most classic western metropolis. Like New York and its subways and buses, I will never see every corner, every terminal, every gate, but I trust every line, every path. It all makes sense if you cultivate an inner calm, submit, and have faith. Also like New York, I’ll happily take public transport in to, out of, or within this airport, but would rather be shot in the arm than drive anywhere in its vicinity under any circumstances. Ride to the airport? No thanks, I’ll leave four hours early and take two trains there. Yes, at 3AM.

Denver International Airport

DIA is the “chaotic good” square of my airport alignment system grid. Continue reading

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I’m writing again

I stopped writing for a while. It was a complicated decision, but just as much a thing that happened organically. Ironically, I’m planning on writing an essay about it, but not now, not today.

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Today I’m here to say hi and admit that I am as guilty as everyone else on the planet of abandoning a blog. To be fair, I started this blog in anticipation of my Ireland trip, which didn’t go as planned. In any case, I’ve been a writer ever since I could read The Cat in the Hat. I find it really hard to stop doing for more than a couple of months, even when I recognize that my writing habits or my relationship to writing- as a professional pursuit- are both unhealthy.

I did travel a lot. I held myself to that all year. I’m about to wrap up the year by being away for two weeks, in Wyoming of all places, and I did write an essay about that for The Billfold.

These costs do not represent gifts, treats, or holiday feasts (all three of us share a bone-deep distaste for all things Christmas, so we will not be observing). These costs exclude what we’ll spend on meals, groceries, and outings, not to mention gas between Denver, Jackson, and Lander. I’ve left out the extra warm clothing that I needed to get in order to be comfortable in a Wyoming winter. This is just what it is going to cost us to spend time—time that just happens to coincide with “the holidays”—together.

This is what it is going to cost me to sleep next to him, see his face unscrambled by spotty Wi-Fi, cook dinner and watch Pixar movies with his son, and share a pot of coffee in the morning.

Read the rest at The Billfold.

Here’s to writing more and developing a healthier relationship toward a habit I can’t break.