Christian Molenaar

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  • Spaceguard
  • Something Like a Storm
  • Homonym
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Author: cdmolenaar

  • Comedy of Remarriage

    August 11, 2024

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    Nothings

    When Hannah and I got married nearly five years ago, we agreed to read vows of our own writing at the ceremony. When the time came for me to read my vows, I was so overcome with emotion I found the words on the paper could do nothing to capture the sensation of the moment,… Read more

  • Strangers on a Train

    July 22, 2024

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    Nothings

    I want an Amtrak hamburger. And a coffee. Read more

  • July 5

    July 5, 2024

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    Nothings

    Kafka’s diary, July 5, 1914 Read more

  • July 1

    July 1, 2024

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    Nothings

    Kafka’s diary, July 1, 1914 Read more

  • Vanity Sounds the Horn

    June 28, 2024

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    Music

    The last Those Darn Gnomes album, Calling Whitetails to a Tuned Bow, turns five years old today. Read more

  • Recantate

    June 25, 2024

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    Music

    I’m back from the desert with some new (old) songs. Read more

  • Driving the Seven

    June 8, 2024

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    Music

    Today is Tall Can’s birthday. (Don’t ask how old he is. He doesn’t know.) Read more

  • Memorial Day

    May 25, 2024

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    Nothings

    After the ceremony we went out for dim sum and argued about our apartment. When our Lyft driver came he said we were his first partiers of the night. We told him we were going to my mom’s house. He was listening to a podcast about Memorial Day. The host spoke in low, grave tones,… Read more

  • Cowboy

    May 24, 2024

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    Nothings

    The cowboy hat sits high on the crown of his patchy scalp, stilted and unnatural. Read more

  • The Idea of Anything to Be Done

    April 16, 2024

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    Music

    The Idea of Anything to Be Done, a two-part solo guitar improvisation consisting of “Myself Creating What I Saw” and “Let No Name Ever Pass Our Lips,” is out today. Read more

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Thought:

“

The most astonishing suicide took place in this resort community. A young man descended into the basement of his family’s home, where the father maintained an elaborate hobby workshop with all manner of meticulously cared-for tools, and he severed his leg with a table saw. Before losing consciousness, he cut off a hand as well.

He left no note, nor, as is the fashion these days, a video of himself.

His classmates at school said that in the preceding week he had been quieter than usual and he hadn’t been as neat or as organized as he usually was, or on time. But no one knew him really. How many ways do we discover the inaccessibility of another’s mind.

“

Joy Williams | “Mr. Sandman”