Artist. Writer. Designer.

Since my first love, I’ve wondered if it was possible to have a truly vanilla romance as a writer. A writer can only know the world with highest levels of empathy and acceptance as they are always immersed in the lives of others in the books they read, and the stories they write. If a writer works honestly to complete a fiction on a drug addict or someone in a tough situation, they have to fall into that voice without restraint. The most likely result of this immersion will r

I stare at my knees. My lost day has been given back to me. Carol comes to check my pulse. She sticks the thermometer in my ear, sets my body back against the pillows and under the covers but I’m not in the room. I’m sitting under an afternoon sun, next to my pond. My skin warming, only to cool from the soft breeze. The birds spin tales of summer. I’m remembering Sam’s fingers as they run up my arm. Hotter than the sun. He begs me for a release. I stroke his cheek. I listen t

For the moment, she’s the force behind the calm. Encouragement and serenity pressed in-between the lines of each report. And it’s working. The city has started to celebrate the stars alongside the confident voice of the overrated lead anchor and her words. Fear’s now subsided from the headlines of local towns and cities, inspired by our attitude. However, she hasn’t taken a night off to actually go and witness the sights, the stars, with me. I’m not one to traps through that

I’m not even sure what to say. I did love him – for whatever reason. I still feel him in my chest when I think of losing him and the thought is hard to take. When we touch, I feel whole and safe.  But then I remember who is holding me and that feeling challenges itself into a confusion that weights down on me for days at a time. I don’t know what to do. – – – xx, Kristin #writing #creativewriting #personal #relationship #love #fiction #fantasy

There is something about this world, our world, that has begun to drive me nuts. It’s about unemployment, minimum wage and those who like to call my generation ‘lazy.’ I’m going to keep this brief, I promise, but I consider all of this a serious injustice to those who are working hard to survive with little support from our government and without the promise of a career – even with an advanced education. Now, I do get where the term lazy comes from. I imagine our grandparents

As I always say, I aim to be as honest as possible. So, here it goes… With my novel, I started with ambition. A glass of wine, the curtains closed, a new document open. I closed my eyes, took a breath and began to recall my last night in London – a moment I thought would open this on a strong note. The more I got into the scene, the fleshing out of the details, the more I began to realize this was the first time I allowed myself to really think about my life since I’ve landed

My next piece of assessment is a short story. There is no original on this blog. Enjoy! xx, Kristin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Clang. A drink is placed on the bar. He nods. Grips the top of the glass. Drags it closer to where he sits hunched over the worn wood. Stroking the rim, he shifts in his seat. He leans further onto his elbows to stare into the amber colored ale. A long sigh. He lifts the glass. Holds it to his lips an