Previously published on Medium.com When I was ten, I began to travel by myself. I was independent and rarely got homesick. For some reason, I
The heat, the blessed sun. Let this much be mine. The morning dew, the cobwebs, the yellowing leaves. My breath, my wrinkled skin, my shaky
Between the ages of ten and fourteen, I attended a fundamentalist Christian sleep-away camp where my mother went when she was a girl. It was
For me, the center of my house was the kitchen. At first our kitchen was this dreadful afterthought of a growth hung onto the side
A book of healing. A book of sensibility. A book that explains how our earth got so crazy. The book I want to read that
I wish words would fly by me like butterflies and land softly on my page. I wish words would tap me on the shoulder and
I am from the asphalt in my knees when I fell off my bike and also from rice krispie treats and Hawaiian punch at Bible
My mother had a real knack of embarrassing her children on a regular basis. She is and always has been a real piece of work.
Gentle Readers, I started a podcast with my friend Charla a few weeks ago titled STFU: We are not done talking yet. We discuss current
It doesn’t matter that I last saw you six months before you died. I wanted to come see you one more time but I was
One of my earliest body memories is when I was 6. My family was going away for the weekend with our friends. It was Labor
When I was 22 years-old I moved to San Francisco from New Jersey. I arrived for a visit but in less than two weeks I
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