The Persistence of Petals
I keep a pressed carnation inside a heavy dictionary, its edges brittle as parchment and its color faded to the shade of a bruised sunset. It was a gift from a winter that felt like it would never end, a small, stiff thing that once held the…
The Weight of Summer
I spent this morning trying to organize my kitchen shelves. It was one of those tasks I had been putting off for weeks, mostly because I didn't want to admit how much clutter I had gathered. I found a bowl of peaches I bought on a whim last…
The Weight of Small Things
I am wary of the way we use children in imagery. It feels like a shortcut, a way to bypass the intellect and go straight for the throat of our collective conscience. We are conditioned to look for innocence as a mirror for our own lost selves,…