Possibly this is not a time to make sense of things. So here's an essay anyway—on creative practice (and rest), from my monthly column at NicoleDieker.com.
ritual
Sometimes, There are Scars
We called down to hear a sound survive us: "Do not only fear."
At the Beloved River
Seasonal homecoming. A new poem. Some prose approaching a ritual I don't know how to commit to prose.
Beach Offerings & the Gift of Hearing Your Own Words
Some thoughts on ritual. Stuff collected on a beach-walk. An unexpected gift.
Good Friday
Sometimes it's good to be sad. Or angry. Or unsure. Let's go howl at the moon; it's full today.
