australia.

I keep waking up in the middle of the night. Sometimes from the acid ravaging my esophagus from some annoying … More

amoeba.

When we enter into deep relationship, we cast ourselves under somewhat of a microscope. As we cohabitate and learn the … More

artifacts.

The sky is a sorbet of bright white clouds and silky grey with strips of unripened blueberry through the tall, … More

“like” this.

Scroll, scroll, scroll. Like, like, like. Tweet, repost, share. Pressing my thumbprint onto the home button of my iPhone and … More

imperfect.

I’m sitting in the dim of my kitchen, glass of pinot noir at hand, dead flower petals and strings of ear … More

talk.

Driving through the sunlit, endearingly gritty streets of Tacoma yesterday evening, I chat with my friend Ben after what felt … More

Tide pool.

I spent the two days this past week on the Oregon Coast, in familiar yet missed salty air,  hair whipped to … More

She.

After singing lullabies to my niece as she drifted into sleep, after I set her tiny onesie-clad body down into the crib, … More

Selves.

Sometimes in a moment alone after a thread of days spent around people for extended periods of time I’ll feel … More

Your True North.

In my favourite book The Virgin Suicides, after a first attempt at death, young Cecilia is asked post-slitting-of-the-wrists “What are you … More