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.
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 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
“Why empathy?” Silence. “Why compassion?” Silence. “Why should we care about each other?” No one answered. It wasn’t that we didn’t want to answer, we simply struggled to find the best reasoning for it. Perhaps we had never asked ourselves these existential questions before. Perhaps we couldn’t find an answer that wasn’t trite, naïve, or saturated…Read more The Pendulum of Empathy
I write to a world that has no use for me. To a world done with reading. To a world already impatient, cutting me off in mid-sentence to get to the fucking point already. To a world that is fickle and moody, that does not “get” me. To a world that regards my artistic inventions…Read more On Writing