This Mad World

This Mad World

It feels like our world has gone mad. As though there is a madness that has seeped through us that’s so deep and so wide, that it’s allowed people to justify all kinds of atrocities. We’ve forgotten we are family. Distant cousins. Kin. Each one of...
My Diagnosis + Liberation (Or: The Diagnosis of Liberation)

My Diagnosis + Liberation (Or: The Diagnosis of Liberation)

I’ve always known I’m different. As a young girl, I sought refuge in the forest, talking to trees, creeks, fairies. I lived within a rich world, teeming with imagination so tangible, I could touch it. Taste it. Feel it. Like magic, stories flowed out my fingers into...
For My Daughter: “Tonight I can write the saddest lines”

For My Daughter: “Tonight I can write the saddest lines”

“Tonight I can write the saddest lines…” Neruda’s sentiments echo through me this evening as I recall my 10 year old daughter’s words: “I don’t think it’s smart to keep being myself. It makes things worse. People say I’m weird, crazy, psycho, strange. I think I have...