When I do sleep, my dreams are vivid – omens with oceans washing over me, or waiting for me, splashing at my feet as I maneuver wobbly obstacle courses above. They are the untangling of my daily life, in a maze of walls, a crooked… Read More

The Speed of Metaphors

Ten years ago I wrote that my daughter was a river: My daughter is a river. She is whitewater and I am a canoe, struggling to stay upright. I can’t let the speed, the turns, or the swirling caps of white foam drag me under. My daughter… Read More