Brian Andreas
![Brian Andreas](/assets/img/authors/brian-andreas.jpg)
Brian Andreas
Brian Andreasis an American writer, painter, publisher and speaker widely known for his simple and poetic short stories of 50 to 100 words, often accompanied by distinctive color drawings. The stories range from wry comic commentary to elegant and direct meditations on themes of love, relationships, and being alive now. His earlier stories, prints and books to 2014 continue to be released by his company StoryPeople. After 2014, his work is published for both national and international audiences by brian...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionWriter
CountryUnited States of America
I hope someday you see this is all life wants: for you to be your own kind of beautiful & not the kind that makes you forget who you are.
You're not going to see people like this again for a long time, he said and I said I always saw people like this & he looked at me for a moment and said, You're not from around here, are you?
When you start to crack open, don’t waste a moment gathering your old self up into something like you knew before. Let your new self splash like sunlight into every dark place and laugh and cry and make sounds you never made & thank all that is holy for the gift....
In my dream the angel shrugged and said, if we fail this time, it will be a failure of imagination. And then she placed the world gently in the palm of my hand.
We went to a church that had missionaries who'd come back once a year from Fiji & give talks. I remember one of them saying it was very hard work telling people they were going to lose their everlasting souls if they didn't shape up. I pictured people sitting on the beach listening to this sweaty man all dressed in black telling them they were going to burn in hell & them thinking this was good fun, these scary stories this guy was telling them & afterwards, they'd all go home & eat mango & fish & they'd play Monopoly & laugh & laugh & they'd go to bed & wake up the next day & do it all again.
The most important thing you leave behind is the stuff that turns into treasures when children find it
The clock is a conspiracy & a crime against humanity and I would not own one except I miss appointments without it.
You may not remember the time you let me go first. Or the time you dropped back to tell me it wasn't that far to go. Or the time you waited at the crossroads for me to catch up. You may not remember any of those, but I do and this is what I have to say to you: Today, no matter what it takes, we ride home together.
There are some days when no matter what I say it feels like I'm far away in another country & whoever is doing the translating has had far too much to drink.
There are things you do because they feel right and they may make no sense and they may make no money and it may be the real reason we are here: to love each other and to eat each other's cooking and say it was good.
My grandma used to plant tomato seedlings in tin cans from tomato sauce & puree & crushed tomatoes she got from the Italian restaurant by her house, but she always soaked the labels off first. I don't want them to be anxious about the future, she said. It's not healthy.
You're the strangest person I ever met, she said & I said you too & we decided we'd know each other a long time.
Falling into Place: deciding everything is falling into place perfectly as long as you don't get too picky about what you mean by place. Or perfectly.
We lay there and looked up at the night sky and she told me about stars called blue squares and red swirls and I told her I'd never heard of them. Of course not, she said, the really important stuff they never tell you. You have to imagine it on your own.