Talking, really.
I spent two hours and seven minutes speaking to my grand Tia this morning. I had three hours to work and none to talk to an eighty year old. This is what happened.
The Little House that (minerva) Built
Oh, the happy predicament of getting what you wanted all along.
New Here
A strange specimen in the classroom, or the dangers of being an immigrant in school.
The Fidelity of Non-Memory
What if you forgot someone indispensable? What if you couldn’t recall their face while they were alive?
Naming the Invisible
The eye cannot see itself. Being happens in darkness. Naming the invisible life is a way of seeing in the dark, lest we depend on mirrors outside ourselves that render us incomplete and distorted.
Love letter to you, reading
This is what every other piece is really about.
The Stone
So much of our life is defined by what we’ve loved, by what we’ve lost. Live long enough and one inevitably becomes the other. Live a little longer and the other becomes the one. I want to tell you about a formidable loss that has shaped much of what I have gained.
La Reparadora
I want to tell you about the Grand Moment when I first spoke the primitive language of the heart; which is to say when I first heard the language of the heart. I know it must be our mother tongue because there is no learning curve. As soon as you hear it (you do have to hear it) you’re instantly fluent.
Begin at Once
A new old way of starting your day.