From the annuls of adulting.

It is sudden. It is magic. It is real.

A day of debauchery, violence, martyrdom, and cute cards

Open your eyes. You can fly.

I got the music in me.

In praise of neighbors and those who help. Also peacocks.

The future is plastic. The future is now.

We hold two passports.

When a routine is a ritual

There’s magic in meeting on the trail.

Navigating the space between self-reliance and interconnectedness.

“The power to question is the basis of all human progress.” – Indira Gandhi

This may make a believer out of you.

May all be fed. May all be healed. May all be loved.

Can one sing the praises of a fabric? One can.

I go to the woods.