I've been thinking lately about the spaces we occupy, about how we dwell. I've been thinking of how we shrink and expand to our containment, how we adapt to our surroundings. I've been wondering over how our homes, like branding irons, burn marks into our skin. On Friday, I sat on the floor of my... Continue Reading →
change like hail
Yesterday I went in to sign my new lease. There was the woman who approved me for the apartment and we laughed (cackled, really) as she talked me through the thousand pages. The other employee came in and tactfully told her to get back to work. Still, the woman told me about her mom who... Continue Reading →
a place of my own
For the last couple months, I have been looking for a place to live. This past year I lived in an apartment of divorce: it was in the air, lingering in the fibers of my couch, my carpet. The rent was was divorce-settlement high and always, I knew it was not a sustainable option. It... Continue Reading →
names like colors
"Mom, there are other people with my name," Brandon told me yesterday. "In books or on shows, I see other Brandons." So I told him names, like colors, get used again and and again. I told him a name is a word we assign to someone as if it is his own, although it isn't... Continue Reading →
the cold side of independence
It's been a year, almost, on my own like this. I wasn't prepared for how hard it would be. I remembered fondly living alone, after college, before marriage. And naively, maybe that's how I thought it would be again. That was when I held two jobs to cover rent and expenses. That was when I... Continue Reading →
hard pressed
On this day of rain and heft, I thought of this bike I saw on a run once, leaning against a tree, growing into its bark. Here now I lean into my desk, here it presses lines into my stomach. Here I press on in the rain, rust gathering at my hinges.
Q318 Songs
There is this lit journal that publishes writing about music which I want to submit to, but I just can't articulate exactly how much songs set my days, my intention. How do I describe the content I feel at the end of a day full of parenting and cleaning and trying, trying to write when... Continue Reading →
things that are important
Being the only one in my family who lives outside the city where we grew up together, I often feel guilty about missing out on the lives of my siblings and my parents. So I try as often as I can, to be a part of things that are important to them. When my brother... Continue Reading →
failure, but also, success.
I am teaching poetry workshops again, so last week I asked my students what they like to write about. "Failing," one girl said and I scribbled it down furiously, in both the ways I can mean that. We live in a society that focuses on the negative, on the ways we fail, on how we're... Continue Reading →
