July 6, 2026

it’s seven o’clock
and i’m writing
and the wind is blowing
and my wrist has not yet started hurting [as much as it was yesterday]
and the birds are screaming
and the dog is observing
and the cat is nowhere to be seen

the tea is hot
the coffee is ice cold
and the water is the temperature of our old house’s old pipes
[so, in the summer, not quite as cool as we’d like]
[and in the winter far too cold]
but it’s a summer day
a summer morning
and the window is open
and the rain will be falling all day today
and i hope it feels like the planet is healing
so we, as a species, can maybe follow suit.

June 27, 2026

writing before 7
writing before i’m fully awake
writing before breakfast
before coffee fully takes effect
before i know what my mind is doing this day
but i also know
later today
i’ll have no desire to write
or
the desire will be there
but the motivation
the actually action
will cease
so morning writing it is
with its
imperfections
and sleepy word choices
and distractability

at least i’m sitting here
writing

that’s more than i can say for
the rest of my day

June 23, 2026

the quiet of the wee hours
the hours after all obligations have ended
and most humans have already gone to sleep —
those are the sacred hours for many a theatre-maker/
artist/
performer/
writer/

night-owl —

i used to worship at the feet of
two
and three am

but something changed in my internal workings;
was it a global pandemic?
or some genetic sleeper cell that had been waiting
all along to detonate?
or a combination of happenstance and physiology
all in one?

i can no longer own the title night owl

i am solidly
early
bird

i now hold in my heart my quiet, special time
of 5 and 6 and 7 am
when everyone
[and the night owls especially]
still dream in soft beds —
i am awake and working on
myself
and my own mind
and writing and writing before the world
churns again

the quiet of the wee hours
can be anyone’s,
whomever needs them

night owl

early bird

and anyone in-between

the hours can be religious in nature
or secular if you need no belief
but the sacredness comes from
inside

the sacredness comes from
what you
need

June 19, 2026

the secrets of the morning
only come out for those who pay
attention
and time
and a little bit of caffeine to the gods of
light birdsong
color-changing skies
a quiet you can’t quite name
and the awareness that
in a world of billions
you can still feel like the only
one

June 4, 2026

why
why
why must i keep waking up
in the 5:00 hour
when i don’t actually need to be getting out of bed
until 7am?

is it the sunlight? is it the stress? is it my body craving more time in the day?
is it the heat? is it the animals? is it my to-do list screaming me awake?
is it dehydration? overhydration? is it the caffeine coursing through my veins?

how much how much how much is my body in charge
vs. the external situation(s)
vs. me

January 2, 2022

what is it about
early early morning in New York
that i love so much?

is it the quiet?

i wouldn’t be happy
elsewhere
where it’s
quieter,

but there is something about
expecting the cacophony
and getting the simplicity
the silence of the grandiose,
the liminal space
between the raucousness of nightlife
and the blaring consciousness of daytime

i am always one for the unexpected
i live to break rules
and realities

and that,
i think,
is why i love early early morning
in the city
that says it never sleeps
(but i’ve seen the empty streets.)

October 14, 2021

sometimes you have to eat
and read
before you can write and wake-up
and sometimes you have to just do the things you have to do
before writing that to-do list
and sometimes you need to look at where you’ve been
before going where you’re going
and sometimes you just have to cuddle your cat and dog
before being human.