The Weight of a Soft Ear
I remember my sister carrying a moth-eaten teddy bear named Barnaby everywhere she went. It was missing an eye and smelled faintly of damp wool and spilled apple juice, but to her, it was a living, breathing confidant. We spent an entire summer…
The Sustenance of Presence
Seneca once remarked that we are often more concerned with the preparation of our lives than with the living of them. We spend our days gathering, arranging, and refining, yet we frequently fail to taste the fruit of our own labor. There is…
The Weight of Sustenance
Winter is a long negotiation with hunger. When the frost hardens the soil, the body turns inward, seeking the warmth of things that have held the sun. We eat to remember the harvest, to keep the blood moving through the slow, grey hours. There…