Writings & Doodles by J. Parrish Lewis

portrait J. Parrish Lewis writes. A story crawls across his imagination and he will either wrestle it into a book or serenade it until it agrees to be a post. Either will do.

BLOG POSTS

Snapshot: Children Meditating

The other day, I decided I wanted to get all three of my children started with a regular meditation practice. They've all had the opportunity to try it, but haven't done so regularly. My motivation is primarily to give them a practice they can turn to when they need...

Writing distracts a writer from writing

I've been neck-deep in my writing projects lately, and I kept finding that writing other things distracts me from writing what I enjoy writing the most. Whew, what a mouthful of typewritten words. I have to admit that, although I frankly did enjoy writing it, I was...

Secret Signs: Part 4 (Conclusion)

By J. Parrish Lewis Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 For nearly a week, Alice’s intended consequence for her mother, a perpetual cold shoulder, crumbled slowly until she gave in to her reality. No words, no apologies or favors, would get Alice what she wanted. She...

Thoughts on a Saturday morning

You know, I got up this morning with a plan to write a post about something. Nothing specific, I just figured I was due to write a post, which meant coming up with a topic of something I WANTED to write about. Nothing comes to mind. I'd rather work on my fiction,...

When I was the isolated deaf kid

When I was in High School, I spent the majority of my time alone, feeling invisible. At lunchtime most days, I'd get a couple packets of Nutty Bars and go to my little space in the Art classrooms, purposefully isolating myself rather than feel invisible in the...

The good things about you

I'm the kind of person that puts too much thought into trying to be a better version of who I am. I was thinking about this last night, while driving to the store, because driving's an excellent time for pondering life's mysteries, including the mystery of why people...

Your laughs are music to my eyes

The other night I was talking with my daughter, Ladybug, and she laughed at something I said. I forget what, I say lots of silly things and once in a while I get a genuine laugh instead of the groan that follows a Dad Joke (which, by the way, I've developed an...

Self-doubt banshees and paralyzed monkeys

I have lost track of the number of times I have opened up the computer to write and let myself be paralyzed by the blank screen, or opened up my sketchbook and let myself be paralyzed by the blank page. When I started this website, it was going to be whatever I wanted...

Secret Signs: Part Three

PART ONE: In which Alice learns about a new Deaf Student PART TWO: In which Alice meets Wren, a Deaf Boy who teaches her some ASL Secret Signs: Part 3 By J. Parrish Lewis By the end of the week, she knew how to make the alphabet with her hands, just like Wren could....

Secret Signs: Part Two

PART ONE: In which Alice learns there is a new Deaf student at school Secret Signs: Part Two By J. Parrish Lewis She saw his backpack first, outside the speech therapist’s office where kids who had speech therapy were always directed to drop them. It was worn around...

Secret Signs: Part One

Alice. The girl does not move. Her gaze remains fixed on the particularly bright line of green that she has drawn to represent the horizon. A vibrant green, it makes her smile. This is her favorite color and she will use it again, often, and with abandon. This is a...

Make what you do matter to you

I think a lot about how to use the minutes and hours of my life in meaningful ways, at least meaningful to me. Like anyone else, I both use my time well and I waste time. I work toward shifting my choices toward using the time well, though it seems that's not always...

Teach your deaf child to be thirsty for knowledge

I am asked by parents of deaf children for guidance on how to help their children succeed in life. I've already written plenty about the need for completely accessible language at home, with American Sign Language as the foundation no matter what else is chosen to...

Grief

Grief catches me in the back of the throat. That's where the pain resides. I don't know why this was, but that's what I felt, trying to hold myself together while my grandfather lay in bed dying in his apartment in Seaside, California. I arrived two days ago, after...

Preaching to the choir in the echo chamber

Yeah, I know, that's kind of a weird title for someone who is deaf, since I can neither hear a choir nor an echo chamber. But I'll use these words because it's the best I have available to me. I've been thinking a lot about what I have been doing with Munky Mind for...

« Older Entries