Autumnal
I learned to love the fall, to really love it, at the foothills of the French Alps, in October, two months after my friend drowned in Lake Michigan.
Still Hungry
Lamb and lentils, red wine, pumpkin thing, red wine, red wine, cracker with stuff on it, red wine, sake. We stopped at Anna’s for a burrito, because no matter how good the food is, you always get hungry again.
Artprize 9: A Retrospective
Before even stepping foot downtown I basically knew what art I would find where and what would be in the Top 20.
Blue Monday (A Tribute to Tom Petty)
For a moment, I wondered if I should be embarrassed. Then I remembered that loving Tom Petty is not embarrassing.
On Owning Guns
Whenever I tell people about this hunting trip, about my family’s tradition for the past ten years, I share it with a blend of defiance, pride, and defensiveness.
Figs, Deferred
North Lawndale is a food desert.
Piano Hands
My hands are social. They will say “I love you” before my mouth is ready.
Teaching Myself to Read
I’m discovering that if one is to read aloud, one should pick up a murder mystery.
Settling for Less
We can understand being present by distinguishing between two types of activities we engage in on a day-to-day basis: telic and atelic activities.
I Am Not the Funny One
It’s not that I don’t have a sense of humor—with close friends and family I joke, laugh, and make others laugh. But there’s an unshakeable earnestness to it.
