For Dear Life

For Dear Life

The heater isn’t working, so I pull out a hoodie, remembering Zoe telling me last week that everyone needs a hoodie – a cozy pullover that goes over your head, that you might even hide out in. Zoe said that their own hoodie had saved them many times. Maybe it...
Why I Write

Why I Write

Because my 88-year-old mother starts sentences with, “Now don’t you go telling your siblings what I’m about to say.” And because it’s mostly about things she’s forgotten, like a date with a friend that she didn’t write down and how they showed up at her door. She...
A Hall Pass from the Universe

A Hall Pass from the Universe

For a couple of years now I’ve been aware of something that I can only describe as a big bend in the road ahead for me. One of those wide, wide curves you might take in a train or a car in a vast landscape, the bend so wide that you can’t see around it, can’t see...
Let Your Cardboard Show

Let Your Cardboard Show

Hi friends and fellow creatives, Like many of you, I’m trying to pace myself with the news and the state of the world. It’s a lot. I feel it in my body, in my family, in my friends. The collective anxiety is real. Lately, I’ve been thinking about how to stay engaged...
Wake Up, Naomi!

Wake Up, Naomi!

Wake Up, Naomi! That’s the sign poet Naomi Shihab Nye sees above her desk every morning when she sits down to write. It’s a note written by her son when he was a boy, maybe as a reminder that he needed to wake his mother up from a nap, but a note she has kept all...