• The Apartment

    The Apartment

    When I went to college, I was close enough to go home easily but the school suggested and therefore my mom enforced no going home until Thanksgiving. So that you gave yourself a real chance at getting adjusted, to making friends, to finding a rhythm. I’ve imposed the same sort of rule on myself at…

  • new motto, new friends, new apartment               

    new motto, new friends, new apartment               

    I said goodbye to my new London friends. We cried. It’s amazing how fast connections can form when you’re traveling like this. I feel like I’ve known them longer than four days. I’m going to London to visit and bring my mom. They will come stay in my riad and come to my wedding….to whoever,…

  • Café des Espices

    Café des Espices

    My favorite café so far in Marrakech is Café des Espices in the spice piazza (I’m sorry I will never not be Italian in naming this type of space). Rattan umbrellas three deep, stools, armchairs with red carpet pillows on the perimeter, straw hats on each table, greeter man, waiters and waitresses! scurrying about, huge…

  • The Women and the Shopping

    The Women and the Shopping

    I am not shopping. For a multitude of reasons. I need nothing. I have no house to put anything. I don’t know where exactly I live. I am already carrying to much. Figuratively and literally. Like want to find a UPS store to send things home carrying too much. I understand and can appreciate the…

  • The Men and the Scams

    The Men and the Scams

    This part of the Medina I’m in now is a little pocket of weird energy. Every time I’ve been in this part I feel it…the first time I did an abrupt about face and left. The souks in general are intense; shops packed together, their offerings piled high and spilling out into the alley, people…

  • My two favorite people in Marrakech…written January 2025

    My two favorite people in Marrakech…written January 2025

    Walking home from dinner, a souk vendor caught my eye and invited me in to see his rugs. So far, I hadn’t been engaging beyond a smile and a nod. I don’t need to buy anything and mostly it feels safer to not engage this first solo experience in the crazy souks. Especially since I…

  • The Heat and Lessons from a Yurt

    The Heat and Lessons from a Yurt

    It really is it’s own being, the heat. Actual 117 degree, African heat. A pulsing, throbbing, shimmering, slate grey sky oppressive thing. Laying down over everything. Lion’s hot breath on the back of your neck so you lay still and pinned down, trying not to tempt it. Trying to avoid it’s notice. Deep breaths, cool…

  • Marrakech

    Marrakech

    I forget how much I love this place. The sounds, the heat, the colors, the chaos. Motorbikes carrying things you wouldn’t think could be carried; German shepherds, lamps, 5 people, trees. Traffic pulsing and rushing forward, horns honking. Palm trees, Moroccan flags, people everywhere. It’s terracotta and slate blue sky. Green palm trees. The Medina…

  • Begin again

    Begin again

    Every time you think you know something, it changes. Something shifts.  I don’t know what this is. I thought I did. A discovery of a home. A Lost place. Found in Morocco. But I’m not sure it was ever about the place. I think the place was the trigger. The space that provided the catalyst…

  • waiting to meet me

    waiting to meet me

    Sometimes, maybe when I’ve been exposed to beauty, I feel such an aching fullness. A hope. Thick and real. Like something sticky and fleeting like it’s dripping through your fingers, and you can’t quite hold it but some of the residue is left on your hand. Driving through Roses Valley- all the doors. Metal with…

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