Skip to main content

Posts

Showing posts with the label resistance

Stone and Signal - Episode 5: Storytelling As Resistance

  Welcome back to Stone and Signal.  I am excited about this episode.  I hope you enjoy it. The Podcast Links Episode 5 on Substack  Edpisode 5 on YouTube Episode 5 on Spotify The Essay The Transcript The Thin Line Between Cancelling and Censoring Every year, Banned Books Week comes around like a mirror we’re asked to look into—and what we see reflected says a great deal about who we are becoming. The books that end up on “challenged” or “restricted” lists rarely surprise me anymore. They tend to be the ones that speak too plainly about what others would rather not confront—identity, power, the environment, grief, or truth. If a story makes us uncomfortable, it’s easier to remove it from reach than to ask why it unsettles us. If I’m honest, many of my own books could probably find their way onto those lists. Stories that speak of youth defying systems, of ancient forces rising against human arrogance, of governments rewriting morality under the guise of progres...

Fragments of Frost and Fire - Episode 8 - The Narrow Path

 There are moments in life when the choices before us aren’t clear-cut—when we’re not deciding between right and wrong, but between two difficult, uncertain paths. Some are quiet, personal crossroads: whether to stay or leave, speak or stay silent, act or wait. Others are much larger, woven into the world’s violence and velocity—choices that ask who we are, and who we’re willing to become. The Narrow Path is a poem about those in-between places. It's about walking the line between action and retreat, resistance and resignation. It's about the tension we live with—individually and collectively—as the world asks more of us than certainty can offer. This piece doesn't aim to provide answers. Only to hold space for the questions, and the weight of walking. The Narrow Path Photo by Rachel Claire: https://www.pexels.com/photo/narrow-road-between-fields-with-plants-4993212/ We walk the line where shadow slips beneath the trees, not night, not day— but the hush between. Not the ...