I’ve just spent the past several months in a wormhole of dizzying deadlines. Call it serendipitous, or by the hand and divine interests of the Creative Director of our lives, pages of story are tacked to all the walls of that underground place. There is the very high word count…
Someone asked me what happened to Juliet Rome. Musing about beauty seems small and inconsiderate in the context of a border crisis, new global tensions, civil unrest and more discordance than I’ve seen in my lifetime. They are a dark subtext for pretty words. From our tree house I watch…
My heart feels loss this morning, so I’ll celebrate him while he’s still alive. Thinking of him, I asked J. if he would call him a renaissance man. Yes, I think so. He had many interests and did a lot of things. Jars and jars of homemade pear-honey jam. Inspired,…
Me, inspired by an Instagram post: I’d like to enjoy a hot drink inside a greenhouse. J: Go do it. Me: Can’t. Have too much work. J: Oh, stop being so German. I’ve been thinking about my life under the cloche and how we all default to a space. My…
I’d love to accomplish more, and I’ll be the first to say I can hyperfixate on one thing to the exclusion of everything else. Returning to the subject of grid paper and the idea that we can give too many things too many squares in life and lose our balance, we’ve…
This is a story I’ve wanted to share for months. I’m motivated because there are loose threads of it everywhere I look. My mother continues to gift pieces of favorite collections. J.’s dad gave Alex an archival album filled to overflowing with collected clippings from every golf tournament he ever…