In the winter of 2008 I lived a boxed life. The apartment I shared in West LA with my husband (then boyfriend) was a white cube just under five hundred square feet. I left that cube every morning just after 7 to hop the red brick 704 bus into Century
I recently found out that my grandmother, my father’s mother, the one that died of leukemia long before I ever came to be, was something of a seamstress. My aunt tells stories of her mother walking down the main street of their small town in post-Dust Bowl Oklahoma, trailing a
Lately it seems easy to discount the world as ugly. It feels impossible to ignore the dangers of modern society as they’re broadcast to our simple, tribal minds in stunning, 4K Ultra HD. But I still strive to find its goodness. I think some of what makes our world is
I walk this earth always with a song in my heart. While the song may change, the music never ceases. Lately, when the world is silent, Stevie Wonder and his piano sing to me. “You are the sunshine of my life.” Why? Why this song? Why right now? I am
What is the shape of your spirit? In your heart of hearts, what is the best and most honest version of your self? I’ve always thought myself a bit of a penguin. Gawky. Squawky. Awkward on land. A bit unnecessarily proper. Prone to fade into the background; easily mistaken for
I am from and of the desert. I prefer my skies wide and blue, my earth rough, dry. If love is the water of this emotional life, I, like the desert, have learned to survive on little. I make do with what I have. There is beauty in this barren
