Through this gradual absorption, there is an ingraining, a re-blueprinting on a cellular level.
Author Archives: Rebecca Evans
Meta Disabled Me & I Survived
I ended up in my inner rabbit hole instead. I sorted my “why” on social media.
How Remodeling My Kitchen Helped Me Revise My Full-Length Poetry Collection
This type of restructuring transferred to my writing in, well, structure, especially helpful with poetry. Poetry is both a visual and a literary art. The shape and structure and form inform the work as much as word choice and language.
On Being Bedazzled
“Braced and Bedazzled,” holds a time in my life I waded in shame. This essay, every essay, behaves much like a time capsule. I’d returned to undergrad school after leaving a domestic violent marriage. Soon after, my cervical spine gave way—an old injury taking its toll. I had three young sons to care for, withoutContinue reading “On Being Bedazzled”
The Birth of an Essay
Power surged into me, something electrical, and I realized I was given a piece of me back, the piece taken from me over and over in my youth. The piece used to control me, overpower me, keep me in my place. The piece that should have belonged to me and only me all along, that should have been guarded, protected, like the world’s greatest diamond. The piece diminished to the point I never thought about it, didn’t look at it, never talked about it. The piece I felt ashamed of, the one I blamed myself for all that went wrong. The piece that guided my babies into this world and helped push them forth into their first breath.
Me. No More.
Me. Me. December 2008. Me. One month prior to downloading my youngest. Me. One year prior to fleeing my home, three sons in tow, one duffel stuffed with medical supplies and a handful of diapers. Me. Looking un-terrified, flexing, posing. Me. Living in duplicity. This image is not about body-beauty or suface-pretty. This was anContinue reading “Me. No More.”
I found, through the use of third-person, I could write the hard stuff, the stuff that damaged me, that changed me, that shamed me. I could write as if I were writing about somebody else.
Published in The Blue Mountain Review, Nov. 2020 Duende. It can feel like a descent into shadow, a murkiness blanketing the earth, suffocating humanity. Some label duende as an emotional nightfall. The term, born from “duen de casa” (master of the house), often relates to elves and goblins and creatures in Spanish and Latin AmericanContinue reading “On Duende”
28 Pages of Revision…
Twenty-eight pages. A solid revision day. One goal for this narrative is that each chapter feels complete, carrying the weight of story on its own. Best writing today: “I didn’t know I had so much blood inside me. Feeling dizzy, I lowered myself onto the glass, lying on my back as if I were usedContinue reading “28 Pages of Revision…”
(First Published Idaho Family Magazine 2015, revised 2022) Just like that. You change your “status”. In a blink, your label spins into “single” or “in a relationship” or the announcement of, “it’s complicated”. This is social media. Our measurement of our social status. The platform definer of our existence. And as long as mankind hasContinue reading “Relationship Status”