Kendall Defoe
Bio
Teacher, reader, writer, dreamer... I am a college instructor who cannot stop letting his thoughts end up on the page. No AI. No Fake Work. It's all me...
And I did this:
Achievements (6)
Stories (841)
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In the Hall of Crosses
Where was my head at when I headed down to my hometown’s art gallery? It was the day after the New Year rolled in, and I was aware that I would be leaving in less than a week. I had been spending most of the time with my family and noting the frailty in my mother and stepfather, more so in my mom (she will not be stopped when her home has to be clean and meals prepared). I went over to visit relatives during the holidays, but I felt like I was looking at something from a distance. Most of the people I know are all working in the same soul-deadening spots I managed to avoid, and I cannot really explain why I see their lives as sadder and more limited now. My neighbourhood has not changed at all (perhaps there are more people buying some of the newish homes around us; perhaps more people are retired and keeping to themselves – no change there, either). I had gone for a walk on the Bruce Trail on the birth of the new year, and there were the usual friendly faces and greetings, but it felt like I was stuck in a terrible pattern that I built for myself since I first discovered that path through nature. I had less than a week left, and I wanted something unique that spoke to me, and lifted me out of the deep funk I felt seeing where I came from (it also did not hurt that the day after New Year’s Day was a free day at the gallery; you take what you can get). So, on a Thursday, I caught a bus – could not get anyone interested in heading down with me and a bus seemed to be the right method of entering the downtown core – and with a new stop that put me a little too far from my destination, I went into the brown, brutalist structure that is our municipal gallery.
By Kendall Defoe about a year ago in Photography
Choose Your Own
It was an honest mistake. Michael Modlum, long-time bachelor and full-time Central Branch patron, had not paid attention to the buttons on the elevator when he stepped aboard the already opened space. And then it dropped. Usually, he would have walked up the single flight of stairs to the fiction section, found a chair in an area not too hot or bright with sunlight (difficult on that day), and tried to read whatever had been left behind on a table or shelf nearby. But it was a much more tiring day and he felt he deserved the elevator. He was heavy in the waist and did not have any habits that would have taken care of that problem. He deserved this.
By Kendall Defoe about a year ago in Fiction
David Lynch (January 20, 1946 - January 16, 2025)
“WHAT?” That was my reaction to the death of David Keith Lynch. I was at home on the one real day off I had this week between recovering from a very bad cold, teaching, prepping and cleaning up after the vacation that was time spent with my family. I was about to take the laundry out of the washer when I saw the message on Facebook that he had died and all I could think to say (or at least type) was one loud blurt from the heart. And it seems appropriate now that the person who put that notice up happened to be one of my former media students. She seemed to understand his importance not just to me, but to a host of us suburban weirdos who could see what was bubbling under the surface of all that brown and grey.
By Kendall Defoe about a year ago in Geeks
My Little Book . Honorable Mention in New Year, New Projects Challenge.
I often forget how inspiration can come from irritation. I waited a while before contemplating this particular challenge. I had the annual trip home to see the folks and other wondrous sites of my hometown (irony detected), and then, two days after my return, caught a very bad cold and had to spend most of a weekend indoors imbibing soup and tea (if I am ever reincarnated, it will have to be with the name Campbell or Twining). And then, on wobbly legs and with less than a hundred percent stamina rating, I went in to the college to begin another semester of teaching.
By Kendall Defoe about a year ago in Motivation
Quarter Century. Top Story - January 2025.
Twenty-five years… It just seems to be a small blip in time once you’ve reached my age. Young people always think that as soon as they hit a certain number that the party’s over. Well, that ain’t true. Not at all. Not a chance.
By Kendall Defoe about a year ago in Futurism
Another New Year Tribute?
Almost missed the drop. 2025 is here! Please, I need a hug... * Thank you for reading! If you liked this, you can add your Insights, Comment, leave a Heart, Tip, Pledge, or Subscribe. I will appreciate any support you have shown for my work.
By Kendall Defoe about a year ago in Poets
A Look Back...Sort of...
It is one day before the last day of the year (New Year’s Eve Eve?) I am sitting at home – well, my old home – typing this out on my bed as I recover from my long day out trying to find some distractions in the places where I enjoyed my teen years (I mean the local mall, of course). My mother, recovering from a cold, is now forced to watch Monday Night Football with my stepfather and pretend to enjoy it. I have an old guitar, some Duolingo courses and plenty of books to distract me, along with another prompt for another story (over 500 words already written). And my mind is already racing ahead to what 2025 will bring. But let’s not forget the year we are about to lose…
By Kendall Defoe about a year ago in Journal
This Day...
From Christmas to a Boxing-Kwanzaa-Hanukkah Hybrid? Best to you...! * Thank you for reading! If you liked this, you can add your Insights, Comment, leave a Heart, Tip, Pledge, or Subscribe. I will appreciate any support you have shown for my work.
By Kendall Defoe about a year ago in Poets
The Last Week
A last-minute piece, but I think that I have something to say… It is the day before I fly home to see my family for the usual two-week spread in my old hometown. I am not looking forward to seeing anything related to the city (for the most part). I am much more interested in how time has changed all of us over the last time I was at home, attempting to enjoy the holidays at my least favourite time of the year. And then I remembered this challenge, right in the middle of laundry, packing and planning for the rides to the airport.
By Kendall Defoe about a year ago in Motivation
