I am an artist, painting words on the canvas of my life. What you take away from this is as much about you as it is me. If you'd like to learn more, follow me on Twitter, Facebook, or Google+. To hire me, visit my copywriting page.
I was five when I found my father’s lifeless body sprawled across the floor of his study. I didn’t understand that he was dead. I was just a child.
How I loved, and how we loved, but alas, fires unfed grow cold and die. Would that I’d a diamond for each tear I’ve cried, or time I caught another’s eye.
Van Gogh was a poet with a paintbrush, working by the light of inspiration’s flickering candle, and beset by the shadows of self doubt.
My job was hardly a love affair. I wasn’t a rat in a maze of identical cubicles, but then neither was I an artist. Instead, I destroyed what I loved most.
Earn more with your writing by learning how to effectively show clients some of the not so obvious differences between content, writing, and copywriting.
I woke up one morning to the realization that I’d wandered away from the shallow pool of sobriety and into the deep waters of alcoholism.
I say your name, hoping it will start the flow of words I so desperately wish to put on this page. Yet once the sound has passed my lips, there is nothing. Only an empty room.