My 01/07/26 postcard is a spent flower hanging from a curved stem, its petals wrinkled and heavy, still holding traces of pink and gold. The bloom bows under its own weight, not broken, just finished. The background dissolves into a warm blur, leaving the flower suspended in a moment of quiet surrender. It’s no longer blooming, but it hasn’t disappeared either, a small, honest record of time passing.
My 04/05/26 postcard is fresh growth pushing out from the top of the cactus, soft…
At the Brent Baca Memorial Disc Golf Course, the land feels stripped down to its…
My 04/03/26 postcard is a handmade cloth figure, sitting with a quiet, thoughtful presence. His…
My 04/02/26 postcard comes from a front yard on California Street, a place I pass…
My 04/01/26 postcard is a small cluster of seed pods hanging from a thin branch,…
