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Excavation
Some days it’s so desperately easy to be happy and others it’s like when was I ever happy? There doesn’t seem to be a middle ground. This is exquisite. And excruciating. Beautiful. Painful. Expansive. And so, it’s both. It’s all. It’s growth. It’s breaking down. It’s recognizing patterns and saying no, I’m not going to…
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Loose threads: alphabet soup
Learning a new language from scratch is like drinking alphabet soup and trying to make words, sounds, meanings from the overcooked letter shapes that glide through your teeth. As much as you try to catch them and form some meaning from them it’s impossible. They glide through and down before you’ve even really had a…
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Loose Threads: memories
Isn’t it funny how memories can all run together. They chase each other down alleys and cobblestone streets so that they become intertwined whether they were ever related at all. And nothing necessarily unites them except a feeling. Riding a train at sunset drinking a spritz and laughing after dancing on the binaro. Passing those…
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Homecoming
June 1 It’s strange. I walk around this apartment as if I’ve already lived here. Or as if a future version of me sent images back to me, and I know it already, so I feel at home in a way I can’t describe. Like I’ve always known this place. This morning I took pictures…
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Loose Threads: dunes
April 2026 Sitting in the dunes at sunset as the world gets painted….blanketed with the same hue…overlaying each existing color and transforming it. Unifying it all under the same palette. As I look out over the vast ocean of sand, I think often of the Little Prince and his need for a drawing of a…
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“Lost” in the desert
Written in the desert house, April 2026 I’ve lost days. I looked at the map, maybe it was in Italian, and now I’ve confused when is when. I’m losing needing to know. I am so outside of time. It is measured in wind bursts, sunsets, loved ones’ days off and their increased presence. I sat…





