To the little ones I love,  I wanted to write you a Baldwinian letter, but I am not James Baldwin. I am not that lyrical or experienced with words. You probably do not even know who Baldwin is at your present age. Don’t worry! I'll give you a mouth full as you grow, but I wanted to share some of the things I have been...

Little boats are not supposed to hold glass screens that reflect an atmosphere of shifting humors but I sit and stare at a little glass square that cannot hold the moon with silver dust and then nothing and a thousand other things like the dark side of a book or the dark side of canyons that never form full lines of sound that ...

I wondered when I would be opened, when my letters would be renewed. And my thoughts often wondered to a dark place, where there were no bounds, no borders, no grounds, where there are pictures that light up so foreign, but the dark enslaves their sound.   And Oh, how I wish to be awakened, for...

Why does a honeybee fly? Perhaps only to feed on the nectar of orchids, or to dance a dance of thoughtfulness with the tulips. Maybe because flightlessness is most fearful.     What motivates, and what drives? Pursuit of the grandeur of the Iris, to rest as the dew on a rose. Thoughtlessness as blis...