I am disillusioned. Utterly and completely. This world of the-best-time-of-your-life, grassy quadrangles, Monopoly money, and monthly emails I live in is cruel and hateful, divisive and manipulative, revered and fetishized. I don’t believe in what I am doing here. But strangely, I am hopeful. Perhaps, trust-full is a better world. I think it’s all the … More toolbelt

some things

Some things are perfect, I guess. Never having eaten steak and taking the minibús instead of walking on a Saturday morning. Me. A seedling. In a circle with beads that are hugged by knots. Rachel. A shelter. Mikaela. A fire in my pocket. Some things are just perfect I guess. Like mopping to TSwift and … More some things

to build a house

I dream in bookshelves and bottles, broken glass and tiles found down dusty roads that disappear into the horizon.   my love lives down a gravel road. rhododendrons lean out and over, pulling me in. he doesn’t wait for me. he never has.   the kettle is hot on the stove, and the blank pages … More to build a house


There are truths that you know, and there are truths that you learn. I’ve always known I had words inside my head. I remember laying awake in the honey-colored home, under the winter quilt and with a secret stash of lemon heads tucked between the me-sized mattress and the wall. I watched the dark letters … More broken


What I want to write about is wonder and joy and amazement and innocence and sparkly mornings and little warm hands, my bookshelf and the sprouts on my windowsill and my old, old friends that suddenly seem new, the yeast in my freezer and the starter on my countertop, the culture in my loaves, the … More (wo)man

Liliana Esperanza

I miss home. But I don’t know what that is anymore. I miss sun falling into the honey-colored house. The pink and the white with little flowers. The galax. That child. She was Esperanza. Making her way up through the trees and the brush of the drainfield, she is Esperanza. Crawling through the tunnels of … More Liliana Esperanza