The Sunday Rumpus Essay: Ruptured
I think about that night a lot, how I knew the ambulance was coming for us. Call me Magic, if you want. I won’t object. Who doesn’t want to be called Magic? Was it magic or do we always know before we know?
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Posts Tagged: Yoga
The Sunday Rumpus Essay: Ghost Lives
“Here’s what you do when that pile starts talking. You light a match. Light it all on fire and watch it burn with a combination of sadness and elation.”
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Shit Turd and The Purple Light
With this much self-awareness and meditation, residents such as myself tend to forget – or, rather, concentrate on forgetting – that Encinitas is also a half-marathon’s distance from the Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton, which is roughly the size of Rhode Island
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In the Wound Lies the Gift
At 13, I never hear anyone use the words “slut, whore, bitch,” until they are said to me, about me. Brain damage, in one area of my skull. Straight A’s in the other.
...moreThe Rumpus Interview with Jonathan Evison
“It’s difficult to forget yourself, to put your whole life on some back burner, and give yourself to your characters. But that’s what you’ve gotta do to get the job done.”
...moreThe Rumpus Interview With Neal Pollack
A year and a half ago, I started practicing yoga because I wasn’t feeling well. I could barely touch my toes and felt very self-conscious in yoga classes, but kept practicing because I started to feel better.
I didn’t know why I was feeling better, so I went to the literature.
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