I bought a collection by Rilke at Darvill’s bookstore on Orcas Island, hoping it would free me from a year without writing. The store is small, warm, and jam-packed with books. A chime goes off when the door opens, and… Read More ›
My heart swells at the thought of being who I thought I could “Can” is the operative part of could Forward-looking, or past.
The blog is a token dropped in a deep well. The days spin around themselves, wobble, and fall. Life is you figuring it out publicly, sometimes getting it right.