Earth, the place I was born Round as oranges Horizon sharp as a grass blade I sit in front of a rectangular window Starring at the flurry...

I'm writing amid the chirping of birds that flutter in the moist air of March. As I sit on a bench in my made-in-China and...

What lasts in this world when nothing lasts at all? Does that mean we can ignore the mundane parts of life and feed on passion instead?...

I was trained to care and not to care about certain things in the world And they call that —knowledge.

I am a cloud floating in the sky, and the sky is stored inside a jar. Each day I watch a part of me drizzle, on dirt puddles, on metallic...

Sometimes, (gotta begin with 'sometimes' because most of the time I lose my mind around people) When I'm at an exhibition opening where...