I wanted to know why the hands stopped yearning for the strings they were caked bumps and callous patterns not the right kind of progressions not the desired ones yet underneath the stuttering grip and the delicate-less fumble of the fretless here I set beyond the waking hours with the deepest of needs before sunriseContinue reading “91718: to the time I held the guitar for three days when you departed.”
I’ve been trying left and right to express myself, but nothing works anymore. Social media is too much for me at times, I can’t rotoscope, sell, or innovate fast enough for youtube, no instagram filter is kind enough to my physique (and they told me that is needed if you want to beat the algorithm).Continue reading “Letter to you, Void. (from Idlewind #1)”
To bury a child is an abomination. To bury the second is unsavory, but familiar. To bury the third is industry. Child burial is a coarse proposition like the rope that lowers the flag When god used to look, his head would lower too. Can the father spare thoughts for the republic, trapped in theContinue reading “An American Pastime.”
I’m trying to be more transparent about my process and who I am. Not just to the outside world, but to myself. Sometimes, the default choice is to keep an opinion to myself, keep quiet. It has served me well a few times, but the healthier option is to be more open and find thatContinue reading “Will transparency yield more creativity?”
Follow Idlewind, WY on Instagram @idlewindwy for creative prompts to start your art! Are you a working class creative? Let me know what you’re working on! -J. Alejandro P.S. What the hell is this all about? What is Idlewind? Check out my first post.
With these eyelids smeared shut I squint to ease the throbbing void and color on the other side I have been gone much too long The people speak as if they swallowed microphones The people ramble as if laundry lists were all the rage Slumber short and sweet Meant to be so good to meContinue reading “Dormant”
I’m very optimistic no one will find me here here you can write a few things about sadness and hissing cassette tapes where the amber smiles reside and tomorrow’s sunrise had yet to meet us at the horizon I write with certainty I won’t be found I know this in my heart and slowing veinsContinue reading “this hidden place.”