
Finishing Touches

This will be a short post today.
I have a couple of posts in the works to continue last week’s discussion about the print media that gave gay men a chance to admire handsome, fit men in the days before the internet—without having to turn to porn magazines or videos. I’m still putting the finishing touches on them and adding the images I want to include, so they’re not quite ready yet.
I’m also leaving work a little early today because I’ll be putting in a couple of hours at the museum on Saturday. If I can avoid a migraine, I plan to use the extra time this afternoon to finish those posts so they’ll be ready for Thursday and Friday.
Still Life with Rose

Still Life with Rose
By Richard Scott
Like a foreskin being pulled back, the damask
reveals – pelvic bowl of pink-fringed shadow,
dense sweet-meat bloom, coral’d cave, puce
empyrean with no vanishing point, planetary blush!
So let me in – where everything is new-born
and crystalline, paused and protected – into that other
world, that high-shine place of safety, arranged
and sparking up like a bower. Almost every day,
for some moments, I think about him – the black
stems, thorns that can prick so deeply, whorl
of serrated leaves, all just beneath, around – still
gorgeousness – your petal’d cumulus, your constancy –
helps me live. O rose keep on stunning for me –
for all us boys who have been ruined by men.
About the Poem
There are poems that ask to be understood, and there are poems that ask to be felt. Richard Scott’s “Still Life with Rose” is one of the latter. Its opening image is intentionally startling, forcing the reader to look beyond conventional ideas of beauty. Rather than presenting the rose as a delicate symbol of romance, Scott reveals it as something deeply physical, vulnerable, and alive.
As the poem unfolds, the rose becomes more than a flower. It becomes a place of refuge. The speaker longs to enter “that other world” where everything is “new-born and crystalline,” a sanctuary untouched by violence or betrayal. Yet the rose is not without danger. Its black stems and sharp thorns remind us that beauty and pain often grow from the same branch.
The final line transforms the entire poem: “O rose keep on stunning for me – for all us boys who have been ruined by men.” Suddenly, this is not simply a poem about a flower. It is about survival. It is about finding something beautiful that remains constant after trust has been broken. The rose cannot undo the wounds of the past, but it offers a reminder that beauty, tenderness, and hope still exist.
As a gay man, I find this ending especially moving. Many LGBTQ+ people carry scars left by rejection, abuse, shame, or relationships that wounded more than they healed. Scott does not pretend those experiences disappear. Instead, he offers the rose as an act of quiet resistance. To continue finding beauty in the world after being hurt is itself a form of courage.
The poem also reminds me that healing rarely happens all at once. We often return to the same sources of comfort day after day—a flower, a favorite place, a piece of music, a work of art, or the love of a trusted friend. These small moments of beauty become the things that help us live.
“Still Life with Rose” comes from Richard Scott’s acclaimed collection Soho (2018). Like many poems in the collection, it blends the sensual with the emotional, using vivid imagery to explore memory, desire, masculinity, trauma, and resilience. Scott frequently challenges traditional poetic representations of the male experience, offering instead an honest exploration of vulnerability and healing. The rose, one of poetry’s oldest symbols, is transformed here into something both deeply intimate and profoundly restorative.
About the Poet
Richard Scott is a British poet originally from London. His debut collection, Soho, received widespread critical acclaim and was shortlisted for several major literary awards, including the T. S. Eliot Prize. His poetry is known for its lush imagery, emotional honesty, and exploration of queer identity, love, grief, and the lasting effects of trauma. Scott’s work often reimagines familiar symbols and religious or artistic traditions through a contemporary LGBTQ+ perspective, creating poems that are both intellectually rich and deeply human.
A Quiet Week Ahead (I Hope)

It’s Monday again. This should be a fairly easy week. (Knock on wood.)
I know I have emails to deal with, but nothing else is on my work calendar. On Thursday, I have an appointment with my neurologist at the Headache Clinic. Whenever I have to go to Dartmouth, I take the whole day off. The forecast is calling for sunny skies for the drive down, so that should make for a pleasant trip.
Friday will be my usual work-from-home day. Then on Saturday, I will open the museum for a special tour; I’ll only be there for about two hours, though. This isn’t a tour I’m required to give, but the people who requested it were so nice that I agreed to come in just for them. My boss kept telling me that I didn’t have to do it, but honestly, I wanted to. I love giving tours to people who have a genuine interest in the history preserved in our museum. Besides, it means I get to leave work two hours early on Wednesday afternoon, which is a nice bonus.
I hope everyone has a great week!
Faith That Endures

My brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of any kind, consider it nothing but joy, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance; and let endurance have its full effect, so that you may be mature and complete, lacking in nothing.
— James 1:2–4
There have been times in my life when I have questioned my faith. Not because I wanted to walk away from God, but because I struggled to understand Him. I looked at the suffering in the world, the loss of loved ones, and the pain endured by good people, and I wondered how it all fit within the promises of a loving and sovereign God.
For a while, those questions weighed heavily on me. I wanted answers that never seemed to come. Looking back now, I realize that God was less interested in giving me immediate answers than He was in drawing me closer to Him through the questions themselves.
When I read Scripture, I see that I am far from alone.
Job lost nearly everything. He questioned God, lamented his suffering, and demanded an explanation. Yet through it all, he never stopped seeking the One he could not understand. (Job 3:11–26; 13:23–24)
David filled the Psalms with cries of confusion and grief. Again and again he asked, “How long, O Lord?” He knew what it was like to feel abandoned, afraid, and overwhelmed. Yet time after time his lament turned back toward trust. (Psalm 13:1–2; 22:1–2)
Jeremiah faithfully proclaimed God’s message only to face rejection, loneliness, and persecution. There were moments when he poured out his disappointment before God with remarkable honesty, yet he continued to follow the calling God had given him. (Jeremiah 20:7–18)
Even Jesus, in His humanity, cried out from the cross, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Those words remind us that bringing our deepest anguish before God is not a failure of faith. It is an expression of faith. (Matthew 27:46; Mark 15:34)
One thing these men shared was that none of them allowed their questions to become the end of their relationship with God. They wrestled with Him, they cried out to Him, and they trusted Him even when they could not see the path ahead.
I have come to believe that faith is not the absence of doubt. Faith is choosing to keep walking with God when the road grows dark. It is trusting that His wisdom extends beyond my understanding and that His purposes are greater than anything I can see in the present moment.
God never promised us a life free from hardship. He did promise His presence. Sometimes the path He lays before us leads through valleys we would never choose for ourselves. Yet it is often in those valleys that our faith is refined, our dependence on Him grows stronger, and our hope becomes anchored not in our circumstances but in Christ Himself.
I still do not have answers to every question. Perhaps I never will this side of heaven. But I have learned that God is no less faithful because I cannot see the whole picture. If anything, the seasons that tested my faith most severely have also become the seasons that taught me to trust Him most deeply.
One of the greatest examples of this is Joseph. Betrayed by his brothers, sold into slavery, falsely accused, and imprisoned, he endured years of suffering before he could see what God was doing. Only after looking back over the course of his life could he tell his brothers, “You intended evil against me, but God intended it for good.” Joseph’s story reminds us that God’s purposes often become clear only in hindsight. We may never fully understand every hardship we face, but we can trust that God is at work even when we cannot yet see His hand. (Genesis 50:20)
Following Christ does not mean we will never ask, “Why?” It means that even when we do, we continue to place our hand in His and follow wherever He leads, trusting that one day we, too, may look back and see how God was working through every step of the journey.




















