I don’t view myself as a writer in some accomplished, studied fashion. I am a writer in the same way that I am a stomach sleeper, or a toothy laugher, or a little bit mean by accident. “Writer” is a piece of the puzzle that I have always been parts and accoutrements of. We shift and we change over time; hopefully we evolve into some better, more understanding or comprehensive version of self than we were at 14, but bits of us stay that have always been.

Writing has always carried me through. It has always been a lifeline to understanding myself in a way that I couldn’t wrap my mind around otherwise. Writing is a way of feeling and processing the world around me and my place within it.

Here it is a tool to immerse myself in the loveliness of living. At a time when I feel constantly bombarded with global woes and personal responsibilities I needed a space to remember the beauty and goodness of the place I call home and the people who fill it. I decided to share my exploration of such things here for anyone else who may need such a reminder too.

Light and Love,