I spent a lot of time in my nook, tucked away and dreaming.
All the wrong people are crying, and all the people who ought to feel something do not.
“The day you sit idle, you are inviting illness and despondency upon yourself. I don’t want to be dependent on anybody. I have too much self-respect.”
Arturo is a modern-day alchemist, creating beauty out of bending light, and capturing photons on glass, silver plates, and egg whites.
My eating disorder dictated my relationship to food. Then I moved to Wyoming, whose unforgiving landscape reminded me: We eat food to survive.
When you give birth to a life, you are also giving birth to a death.
If cancer and trauma are hereditary, is it not my responsibility to do everything in my power to ensure neither my children nor I have to suffer?
Through Doug, I realized, musicians and writers have in common an invaluable quality: We get better as we mature.
With words, spelled correctly or not, I could say exactly how I felt: like my head was a ball of snakes, like something extraordinary for once.
My family isn’t religious, but we have a saying that we do believe in my grandfather. And an essay he wrote about me reminds me to believe in myself.
Beauty and its pursuit can be art, a delight, a terrific party. But a party you must attend every day isn’t a party at all. It’s an unpaid job.
There’s a distinct kind of relationship that privileged first-generation children have with their immigrant parents.