Pawtuckaway O’Clock
4 am to 6 am: Camping’s witching hour.
A Freedom I Believe In
So we gathered on Juneteenth, hollering and whooping, as a testament to the impossible.
Type II Fun
That night I called my parents and tried to make it sound like I was having fun, when I really just wanted a dry place to sleep and a few moments to myself.
Do You Want to See What I Drew?
The making of the thing feels good and the looking at a thing that I think looks nice feels good.
Three Laps Around Salesforce Park
It felt solarpunk, if anything with a company’s name on it can be called punk.
Two Years of Fish Pictures
Actually catching a fish is a bit like pulling the lever on a slot machine and crossing your fingers.
Mirror, Mirror, on the Wall
But we don’t do anything about it.
Pining Red
Yesterday I stumbled across a picture of a red pine and realized I had never actually seen one before.
Eccentric Encounters in Miami
“Do you know Father Gabriel?” she asked me.
Bye, Boston (For Now?)
There is no way around this: I just don’t like Boston cream donuts.
