N J Ray
Life 2.0 and other weird shit
How one girl finds meaning in The Walking Dead, twists it, and makes it her own.
Whether you’re bluesy, feeling alone, or just plain tired from the year, know that you matter. You ABSOLUTELY matter. Maybe it’s damn near impossible to see right now. Or maybe it’s been that way for longer than you can remember.
Y’all, I am so, so, so excited! As you may know, I’ve pledged to use 20% of any writing, website, or consulting money to support artists and the arts. I’ve finally been able to take my first step toward that pledge.
I’ve been reading Dying to be Me by ANITA MOORJANI. I had first heard of her several years ago…
I think Thanksgiving is kind of like Valentine’s Day—if someone beats their partner 364 days a year but brings them chocolate on Valentine’s Day, does that mean that Valentine’s Day is special?
Fiction, I’ve read (somewhere) is the art of telling lies that present a greater truth. Fiction walks the tightrope between fantasy and reality.
I have a confession to make: I have lost my voice. It’s here, somewhere, or there somewhere. Maybe it’s next to my car keys I can’t find at the moment, either.
I f we are to eventually accept that we can, in fact, be change makers, with both ourselves and the world, how do we even begin that journey?
I had the opportunity to attend “An Evening with Marianne Williamson” on her Love America tour last week. (I love that name. I wish I had come up with it.) She spoke of many things, all of which supported this: “Where there is love, there are always...
In the excitement of having sooo much to write about, my horses were so far behind the cart that they were still checking out the Golden Gate Bridge while the cart was taking in a Broadway show.