Search Results for: kat kiddles

Unleashing the Ideavirus

I don’t think we’re more connected than ever before. Well, ok, from a professional standpoint, yes, technology has enabled us to choose with whom to collaborate based on desired skill sets and common objectives; at least that’s true for those of us who have access to that…

You Better Not Cry

When you can’t conceal your laughter on a train full of stern and snippy commuters, you know it’s good. When you consider buying a copy for everyone you know this Christmas, you know it’s good. When you pull it out of your purse on date night and start re-reading parts to your hungry date as he tosses his fork under the table just to be able to hide from your hysterical laughter, and you…

The Religion

The putrid smell emanating from within the bowels of the train’s bathroom stall just a few feet away from me is a fitting accompaniment to the vile imagery I’m exposing myself to on this Tuesday-morning commute. What mind-space did the author have to be in to write such grotesque scenes? I don’t want to know, but to a certain extent…

Artistry Unleashed

It seems that to get to such a stage of artistry, you can’t avoid the analytical; it’s the bridge that joins the gut with the mind. But if you are of the artistic mind, if you don’t think in terms of balance sheets and flowcharts, how do you escape the artist’s poverty mentality? Is that…

The Caravan of White Gold

I’m as guilty as the next guy of falling prey to the soulless monsters of modernity. For instance, instead of sitting at the table with my morning coffee to enjoy the last few pages of this lovely story and to perhaps find the courage to jot down some mental musings in the precious stillness, I’m behaving like a multitasking loon. I’m standing, hunched over a…

Cinch!

Spinach used to be the green glop my mother force-fed me once a month. It used to be what Popeye ate out of a can. Now, beefy leaves fill my bowl, glistening with garlic-infused olive oil, and topped with black sesame seeds and bright green avocado. Dessert has never been easier or more bountiful. Dessert has never helped me breathe in a…

The Voice of the Muse

My healing lies in a place of self-embrace, where sizes are stretched and words are dressed in colorful tunics embroidered with lace from foreign lands no map can chart. My healing lies in the space between…

High Bonnet

Certain scenes resurface memories I made with Joanne and Vianne in The Lollipop Shoes – the musty shop in the village square catering to the gluttonous desires of high ranking locals, the detailed descriptions of the alchemical transformations of orange peel and spices. Perhaps it’s been my muse all along, preparing me for my journey with Idwal, enticing me with the scents of spices; perhaps that’s why…

You’re Not Alone

It feels like a million and one characters are about to populate the pages of this book. We’re not off to a good start. The writer bombards the reader with a grocery list of names, rather than describing each personality’s ingredients to reveal each one’s unique flavors. Worst of all, the book’s editor seems to have gone on vacation.

Warrior of the Light

How many times have my lips said yes when my heart whispered no?
[Warrior]: You haven’t learned to count that high yet. Perhaps you’d best practice if you wish to find your answer. Start by counting the blades of the lawn in front of the school where you pretended to learn the things…

Facing the Lion, Being the Lion

Nepo digs deep into the beds of fertile soil that make up our innate potential, wriggling long tendrils of exploration into the dirt like worms tunneling in search of moist warmth and nourishment. He turns the…

The Sufi’s Garland

The book is in part a celebration of the 150th anniversary of Rabindranath Tagore’s birth into this world – a world of which he attempted to make sense despite the many illogical catalysts that veer life’s travelers off their paths. It isn’t even with reverence that I approach such a painter of words, for that would minimize the expanse of Tagore’s contributions. It is more with timidness…

A Beginner’s Guide to the Path of Ascension

Books are much like people. There are times when you revel in their company, basking in the brilliance of each page, impatiently awaiting the start of the next chapter. At other times, the heft of their company is akin to waiting for a train in the rain, fighting for space on the platform as you gnaw at your itchy, woolen sweater and squirm in…

Writing Begins with the Breath

This has been the most difficult book I’ve ever experienced – like watching a car crash and not being able to look away. There were times when I was screaming inside with resistance, hating the truths she…