My creative world has been full lately, in the best possible way. I’ve returned to exchanging pen pal letters, finding something deeply grounding in the slower rhythm of handwriting and the quiet joy of connection through paper and ink. Between letters, I sketch, often sparked by biopics that linger with me long after the credits roll—each activity feeding into the next.
Research and writing shape my days as I juggle several projects. These efforts have connected me with remarkable artists and authors in many genres. Our conversations reveal how vibrant and generous the creative community is. Soon, I'll travel to Chicago to meet some of these people in person and finally share some real, unhurried time together—an experience I eagerly anticipate.
Away from the page, life keeps its own steady rhythm. Piper’s walks and playdates bring bursts of joy, while Lulu’s long cuddle sessions remind me how much comfort there is in stillness. Both rescues continue to blossom in their own ways; witnessing their growing trust and confidence gently balances the energy of my creative pursuits.
All these moments create a season defined by gratitude, expressed through creativity and connection for what is and what will be.
During my high school days, I often assisted my mother with her preservation work at a local library. It was in the quiet depth...
As I sit down to write this, the haunting melody of "Dire Wolf" by the Grateful Dead lingers in the recesses of my mind, a testa...
Imagine a village where the only source of warmth in winter is a great communal fire. This fire is fed by logs passed down through generatio...
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