Tag Archives: newsletter

November Newsletter: Facts are Bones

So there I was, done. I could feel it. The out-breath as I saved the file and shut down my laptop on Friday, yes, but more than that, the lack of the in-breath on the following Tuesday. Theoretically, there was … Continue reading

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October Newsletter: Prickly Pear Juice

So there I was, having another panic attack in the car. Yeah, it’s been a while since I wrote about something hard. Here we go! For context: 2 sets of PCR tests, quarantine, stomach bug, let’s all drive to Greece! … Continue reading

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First Knife Launch Party

Here’s the link!

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September Newsletter: The Salt Bath

So there I was, in the bath. My knees didn’t fit, but the rest of me was under the water, warm and surrounded by salt. Pavlina had set a table next to me with almonds and figs. She’d also donated … Continue reading

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August Newsletter: The Value of Practice

So there I was, neck deep in the Aegean, watching the hills turn black and the sky gold. I slowly beat with my hands and feet, trying to stay still. Trying to relax. I’ve had a hard time with vacations … Continue reading

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July Newsletter: Aspirational Fiction

So there I was, doing jumping jacks, jumping – literally! – for joy in Pavlina’s grandparents’ garret in the Balkan Tower of Matriarchy. My toes sank into and lifted off from their plush,  gray carpet square. Pigeons cuddled on the … Continue reading

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June Newsletter: Waving Back

I’m waving through a window, oh Can anybody see, is anybody waving back at me? -Ben Platt, “Waving Through a Window” from “Dear Evan Hansen” So there I was, like, five minutes ago, curled up in the chair I’m still … Continue reading

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May Newsletter: Ice Cream and Hope

So there I was, feeling good. I was in the grocery store for maybe the third time since February, buying ice, salt, frozen strawberries, and the other ingredients of home-made ice cream. My headphones were in my ears, playing Terry … Continue reading

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April Newsletter: Stripping the Gears

So there I was, locked in the attic, stripping my gears. I bounced in my chair, heart racing, breath baited, teeth clench, shoulders scrunched together, tingling fingers typing furiously away at nothing. And I mean nothing! I was moving words around … Continue reading

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March Newsletter: the virtuous ratchet

So there I was, washing the banister. I had my rubber gloves on, but not my face-mask because those things fog up my glasses and I was inside where the cops couldn’t see me. I had my little tin bowl … Continue reading

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