As the daughter and granddaughter of war survivors, I reflect on war, its wake of post-traumatic rituals and indelible scars on the psyche, as a new war unfolds. Another war stubbornly heedless of the past.
If 2020 was the first year we could remember, would we think of it as a “normal” year? If we had no comparison, would we use it as a template for all subsequent years? In this way, I can’t write about 2020 without context—as chaotic, as challenging, as unprecedented this year currently is and has…Read more 2020
Do you really have to do this? This question comes at me every day, an accusation on constant repeat. Do you really have to do this? I feel the reluctance. I feel the hostility. I feel the privilege, the delusion, the artificiality behind my strivings. All too often I must admit, I am defeated by…Read more Born of Disappearance
There’s a chill setting in, drawing out an amber palette which lights up for a moment golden before it smoulders to a brown. There’s a rain coming down, transforming the world into a muted darkness suffused with potent measures of melancholy and romance. Für Elise in the key of G. I welcome it. I know…Read more Fall Circle
“Have you ever been told to “go home”?” Somewhere in the swirling dust clouds of reaction storms to publicity pining populist power plays, this question appeared. It was recently posted on Instagram with a seemingly empathetic request to "respond with your own personal story in the comments section". This isn’t just any question. It’s a…Read more Have you ever been told to “go home”?
I’ve lived in this Berlin neighbourhood for seven years. That’s the longest I’ve ever stayed in one place. I buy my groceries from grocers who chat with me, flowers from a florist whose children go to the same school as mine, receive parcels from delivery men who know me by sight. Not everyone knows how…Read more The Tree Planters
“I want to drive into the sunrise.” Years ago, when I was living in Seattle, commuting every day to a comfortable desk job in the eastside, I used to mutter this half-jokingly to my carpool companion. This must have seemed to her not just wistful and slightly pathetic but incredibly dramatic, as we were usually…Read more Home in the Ether
If I were suddenly forced to come up with the most compelling reasons to write, I would say: To nurture and strengthen the heart, deepen the dialogue, expand the wisdom and imagination of humans on what it means to be alive and aware now. Those seem like worthy and compelling reasons right? But I can’t…Read more Unwriting
I spent most of last weekend in a kitchen heavenly fragrant with dried fruits, cinnamon, vanilla, ginger, nutmeg, brandy and red wine. That magnificent aroma of the holiday season wafting richly from mulled wine, glistening fruitcakes, sugar cookies and spicy gingerbread. I also brought out my largest pot to make a large batch of treats…Read more Bittersweet
Part of me will always be suspended in disbelief. Dangling where there is no ground, no up or down, nothing more substantial than a mysterious ether. But I am not afraid. I am grateful. I know there are plenty of reasons to be worried, sorrowful, pessimistic. Plenty of tragedy, injustice and hate embedded, looming and…Read more Thankful