Blog

He looks so much like his own father: the jutting jaw, the tipped head. His hair is turning whiter– and these mannerisms all remind me of...

The late, late hour– growing ever later! Sassy, NSFW talk with a grown-ass woman who said, “next year for our birthdays let’s wear...

What an absolute miracle to feel the vibration like road construction in my jaw, to hear the fast whine of the drill, to, yes, nearly...

Oh, Mercury. Swinging back and forth, around and around with so much honesty, with so few fucks given for how we waterlogged humans get...

Fingers on the keys, without knowing the names of the notes, without diagramming the chords but feeling it all out: messing around. I...

From Women Who Run With the Wolves, by Clarissa Pinkola Estés [The Yaga’s] land is the underworld of the psyche. The too-good mother’s...

I am a constellation: points of connection between people, magic, landscape– even the exceptionally fat and surprisingly dead star-nosed...

When I first moved North it was to Seagull Lake, near enough that you could paddle and portage to Canada. The first winter was hard, and...

After days of cold, visitors! They flocked, less than a dozen, to the Japanese lilac (bare, of course). It was as if birds had only...

Falling asleep without the fight of letting go of the day: the floor, the fire, all the lights on, the time too early for a bedtime...

Crystallized sugar on cranberries, slices of winter-yellow orange, flecks of mint. A cloud, a pillow, an invitation of meringue! It...

The light lasted so long I was confused all afternoon– surely it wasn’t four o’clock already! It couldn’t be! Time slipped past, riding,...

“I always support people– especially women– in following their happiness,” she said. Then, “I know you’ve been through this, too,” and...

The light glowed pink and orange, suffuse and creamy. The lake steamed, clouds rising in time lapse, the waves cutting smooth stripes...

When I go to the thrift store (the one full of furniture), I’m always scouting for bigger things: mirrors, coffee tables, a steal on a...

That sharp spike of sweetness. The rush of bubbles to the nose. The snow falling outside, first in sticky clusters, then soft flakes,...

A little red cabin in the woods, with wide plank paneling that has life in it still because it had life in it once. The cracks of light...

There’s a floaty, skating feeling that comes from a certain mix of sugar, fatigue, time alone, and someone else’s voice coming through...

Even in a new kitchen, cake baking is still the same. Sure, the dance is different: turn and step from counter to island, circle back for...

I cleaned the house: put away the dishes Ennis had washed, and washed some more. I picked up the heap of books and notebooks, tarot...