I come to things because I think they’ll be instrumental to me, practical. Then sometimes I realize that the activity I’ve taken up is not instrumental, but transformative… Continue reading Instrumental or Transformative
My first mother-in-law was a minister’s daughter, a minister’s wife, a computer programmer and a mother of three grown men by the time I swung into her orbit, the young and precocious girlfriend to her middle child… Continue reading Mother-in-law
When I was pregnant with my firstborn, Max, I still hadn’t figured out why you might want to knit for babies or children. I still had my eyes on my own (slowly expanding) figure… Continue reading Sweet little things
Getting a tattoo was a small challenge to my perfectionism. It scratched a small line in the sand, in a small way claiming my body as my own canvas, for me to use in creativity rather than in fear… Continue reading Tattoo
Spinning transforms angel-fine hairs, each so fragile, into a strand, then into a yarn… Continue reading Tensile strength
What powerful words do you hang round your neck? Amulets against anxiety, lights in the dark, or millstones that pull you under… Continue reading Amulet, millstone
Nobody ever told me that it wasn’t my fault. That is to say, everybody did, of course… Continue reading Strong little bitch
I fear that I’ll fail my loved ones. That I will leave, that I will be inconstant. That I will turn my face away when they need my eyes, staring back into theirs. Continue reading Inconstant
I don’t know if I realized how tightly I was holding on, teeth clenched, to my imaginary control. I suppose it is because we make things… Continue reading Clenched teeth
I remember being out there, face down in the lake. I don’t remember the campground, the tent we slept in, the hotdogs we ate, who was there… Continue reading Loveland bay
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