What do we turn to when the black dog pops on to our shoulders?
So many people go to a song, a poem, a book; solace in the repetitive patterns of something comforting, something sad, something happy. Me, I always turned to musical melancholy or a trusted battered American novel, (Nobody’s Fool by Richard Russo or The Hour I First Believed by Wally Lamb or The Art of Fielding by Chad Harbach) a story that I know I could open on any page and dive right into the life of someone else for a short period of time, comforting time that takes you away and gives the brain chance to find a new synapse to fire, a new spark that will help me find a different path to go head down. Read More
Why do we not understand it, I guess that is the best question to ask. In light of the genius that was Robin Williams taking his own life there was a general rumbling across Social Media about the lack of… Read More