On taking the night train in December. The horn blows and I imagine a lonely teenage girl in the distance hearing it while laying on her bedroom floor, the moonlight spilling all over the carpet…. On the Amtrak, pink pillow on my lap. Outside it’s gray-brown fields, hazy clusters of trees all bare, their branches … More Night trains and a writing life
Hello friends. Inspired by my housemate who makes amazing zines and having admired them for a long time, I finally made one myself. I used to make zines in 5th grade (called the Cass Mag) and sent them out in the mail to faithful subscribers, aka my aunt Holly and a few of my mom’s … More Finding God in winter time: a zine
These roads don’t move, you’re the one that moves…—Ben Gibbard, “These Roads Don’t Move” Hi friends, hi blog. It’s been too long—I know this and feel it. I’ve started many blog posts in the past year but they all stayed as drafts. Being in the journalism world is a privilege, at the same time it’s … More What the grasses know
Take more time, cover less ground In July, I spent 10 days in Collegeville, Minnesota, at a women’s writing workshop on the campus of St. John’s University. I applied for it months ago, and was accepted, which meant all was paid for, even flights, which was such a gift. I was among a brilliant group … More 10 Days in Minnesota
“Write down, therefore, what you have seen, what is happening, and what will happen afterwards…” Revelation 1:19 (this post is taken from a piece I wrote for a Writing About Art class at the Hyde Park Art Center:) The dripping pink residue of acrylic and spray paint on paper—the colors all sticky and rich, careless … More Pink Oracles
When years seem like days to me, no time on my hands, I run away to a place in me, to a faraway land…—”Faraway Land” by Ron Block On the day I turned 24 (nearly two months ago) I wrote a long, chaotic blog post about the new year and my new age, trying to … More O God of this Great Night
“First of all: I am tired. I am true of heart! And also: You are tired. You are true of heart!” —A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius It’s a quiet October Friday. Earlier today I napped and went for a walk in heavy autumn rain and didn’t get anything done on my to-do list. Outside … More Little Chicago Flower
2021, so far, has been a year of fragmented drafts. I have barely made time to blog, but I miss this place, this sweet sacred space for my own experimentation and exploration that I’ve used since I was 16 until now, at 23. The last time I wrote on here was in January, and it’s … More A Summer Magnificat
I’m writing on a Friday night, sitting in a cold basement of a row house in Northeast DC. Outside it is dark, and this room is dark, and I don’t feel like turning on a light. I hear sirens and helicopters. I think about food and work and love and friends. I think about the … More Weary Worlds
If you can marvel at the face before you with as much wonder and awe as the mountain, the sunset refracting, you have unearthed the Spirit of God. For we are made of glory. —Cole Arthur Riley (Black Liturgies) I type these words on a rainy Friday evening after a heavy week. Out the window … More Irrational season
Rose in Winter 