These days, I crave the deep end. I find myself chiselling away at my life with a fine tool, scraping away bits of clay from my sculpture. At my worst, I flit between hollow breaths, unfinished books, a million little tasks, and lingering tabs. At my best, I feel my gaze concentrate, my breaths steady…

These days, I find myself blurring the edges.  I think to trust myself is to be ok with letting the reins go and seeing where the motions take me. To fall into life a little bit, giving some slack to its bit, rather than pulling it in by its teeth. This is not to say…

on memories and nostalgia

if people are places, you feel like home

life is like costco sparkling juice

The passage of time. With each year, it turns over another page in our books, etches another wrinkle into the faces of your loved ones, silvers the hair. I think so hard about it, as though trying to suspend it in my mind. It’s no use, because even as I think about it, the seconds…

bring together the pieces of your soulassemble those fragments,custom ready-to-make furniture for your homethe books on your childhood shelfthe sold-out stadium tour: stuffed animal audiencesworlds you created and once understoodnow discarded, threads fraying, dust gathering we are a shell of ourselves, a houseuntil we reunite the slivers to create a home there are infinite ways…

I think there’s something so beautiful and pure in children and dogs. I’m thinking about the way they run unabashedly into the world, following their intuition and expanding their map of what’s in the realm of possibility with each step they take. I mean, come on, don’t tell me you’ve never seen a bunch of…