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Christmas Day hasn’t been great. Not terrible. Just… heavy. Mom was a little bummed out that more of her family didn’t reach out, and I could feel that disappointment sitting in the room with us like an extra guest who didn’t bring a gift. I sat there frozen in anxiety, staring straight ahead, craving a cigar like it was whispering my name from another universe. I did the right thing. I told her. Mom stepped in immediately and made sure I didn’t smoke. No lectures. No drama. Just quiet protection. That mattered more than she probably knows. On top of...

1.     Merry Xmas from the shelter… 2.     That’s a shitty tree! You ruined Christmas, Charlie Brown… 3.     He came in the most humble way so that he might be the king of both shepherds and kings He came to redeem everyone… 4.     Cut! Cut! Cut! 5.     What Dan??? 6.     Because you guys got it all wrong! Christmas isn’t about money and material items, nor is it about some hokey religious myth. It’s about family, friends, and love, seeing the people you don’t always see but sometimes care about the most. Giving them something, maybe something simple to show that you...

I’m not going to lie. Today was hectic, loud, tempting, and just plain exhausting. One of those days that tests you not with fireworks, but with a slow drip of pressure. The kind that whispers instead of shouts. And yes, I almost smoked. Several times. The afternoon was packed with medical business. Two imaging tests back-to-back, followed by a stop at the clinic where they were having a holiday party. On top of that, I had to pick up my meds. A full plate for anyone, let alone someone trying to keep their footing while walking away from a decades-long...

  I went to the ENT specialist today for a surgery follow-up. The doctor said all the tests so far are looking good, which should feel like a clean win. But then came the other sentence, the one that sticks in your ribs: he said I’m at a high risk of the cancer returning. I honestly don’t know what to make of that. If the tests are good, there shouldn’t be cancer… right? That’s how my brain wants the math to work. Still, he noticed a small bump on my neck near where the cancer used to be and ordered...

Today I woke up early, the kind of early that usually requires caffeine, courage, and a reason. The reason was a meeting at the Whittier Art Gallery for a group show coming up this January. Art people, gallery walls, possibility in the air. I was in. The meeting went smoothly. We introduced ourselves, shared background stories, talked about our work, our books, our motivations. They seemed genuinely interested in both my art and my writing, which is always a good sign. You can usually feel when a room is politely nodding versus actually listening, and this felt like listening. Then...