Category: thoughts

Fruit of the Loom

The fruit in my kitchen looks nothing like a C├ęzanne. It’s different. Bruised a bit, with a couple of rogue produce stickers and a suspicious soft spot on the bottom lemon. My avocados are too ripe or hard as rocks, but the apples and bananas are delicious. It’s just fruit. C├ęzanne’s peaches are always stunning.…

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Pressed

I have this gorgeous journal. The pages are soft and a lovely shade of ivory. The cover is patched together textiles and embroidered seams. There is a pocket in the front to tuck treasures and inspiration. If I could dream up a journal, this one would be the one. I have a beautiful fountain tip…

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Vintage

Thirty years ago, on January 9th of this year, I thought I had plenty of time to get the car washed. It was an important day, and I wanted a clean car, but we all know time stops at the car wash, and I was nearly late for my wedding. Michael, who should have gotten the…

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Folding

I have reached this interesting place where I’m not willing to share all of myself. That may be because I am working on things that can get ugly, or I’m simply changing. Whatever the reason, more of my writing ends up in a notebook or a journal these days than online. It’s not that what…

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Air Dry

How much more life will I live before it’s time to change the head on my electric toothbrush again? Time is visceral these days. I’m parsing out my life in an effort to make a day, a month, a year meaningful. Life-affirming. I like to think things are not just slipping by for me. No.…

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Mask

We have not taken a trip with our adult children in years. It’s often difficult to agree on a destination or coordinate calendars. When children have their own lives, it is a challenge. But, after a few weeks of wrangling, we did it. We planned a family trip to Costa Rica. Three different areas: cloud…

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Let Out

I am 1985 Allison Reynolds lost on the set of Mean Girls. Let’s preface this rant with the truth that I love my apartment. It houses my favorite office and is located in a gorgeous spot. I have no complaints. But if, as my kids like to say, someone grabbed me by the throat and…

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Nylon

My mom moved us from New York to Arizona the summer I turned eleven. When the plane landed, and 105 degrees of hell hit my face, I vowed to leave the state as soon as I was an adult and could make my own life. I left for college at eighteen and lived in Arizona…

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Canvas

If I were a painter, I would wear a twist of string tied to my ankle long ago by a lover who never promised and left before I ever asked. I would live and work in an echoing flat with iron floor-to-ceiling windows and colorful but cracked tile in the tiny toilet. The window near…

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