eeo
design • writing • yoga
Category: musings
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On the day after Christmas, I wandered the French Quarter. Jazz and street performers and strollers and couples carrying beer down the narrow lanes. Christmas decorations and humidity and 80-degree heat. People from all over the country and all over the world, converging on a slice of NOLA like ants on bit of powdery-sugary beignet.…
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So many foggy mornings this December. Fog always makes me think about how things are not always as they seem. How things that were clear just hours before can become fuzzy overnight, and also how truths that seem distant and unformed can become clear as the fog burns away in the bright glow of awareness.…
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Pining. Wondering: where is home? What is home? Home is where you are safe. Home is the warm place. Home is where you do not feel afraid. (Maybe home can be anywhere?) Maybe home is the feeling of your baby falling asleep heavy in your arms, or the feeling implanted into your consciousness when you…
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It’s like trying to describe why you love the way oatmeal looks. It’s gray, face it. It oozes. It’s not colorful but it sometimes hides sweet colorful things, like raspberries or bright green bits of a diced Granny Smith.
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I woke to singing birds and rain, the hum of the army of air conditioners outside my hotel window— I read one news article before my coffee and eggs about how songbirds in Singapore are endangered because they are being trapped and sold as pets thousands and thousands of them to people who live in…
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It was only a matter of hours. The sunflower who had stood so tall, a full head taller than me, regal and commanding, had turned her gaze towards the earth instead of the stars. I’d come back to take a daytime image of her. I expected her to be smiling at the sun, chin held…
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I met her in the showers, at the University Recreation Center on the Friday night of welcome week. She was me.
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My shadow lives on vine-covered walls. It stretches before me on the sidewalks I travel, everywhere I go. It’s much like every other shadow, I think: at once ordinary, commonplace, beneath notice—and also completely unique to me and the slant of each passing hour’s sunlight. My shadow disappears at night, except when the moon shines.…
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I visited a heavenly place last weekend, where the breeze off Lake Michigan made the daisies dance, and the peaceful energy of the Bahai House of Worship filled me with hope. I don’t know much about the Bahai faith, but the tenets are inspiring: that no religion is superior to another, that all people are…
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Woke thinking about kindness, about giving, about change. How hurt people hurt people, themselves or others. Are some people hurt because few people have ever been kind to them? Maybe I’m being unbelievably naive, thinking like a fourteen-year-old girl doomed to be murdered by power-crazed regime, by people who killed humans en masse, like it…
eeo 