Category: Memory, Identity and Becoming

  • The Soft Glow of Childhood

    Late at night, with the windows open and the house quiet, childhood can come back in strange little pieces: 80s nostalgia, old imagined futures, and the tenderness of remembering a…

  • The Shape of What Remains

    When memory has nowhere to go, even small inherited things can feel enormous: heirlooms, recipes, stitched gifts, and the ache of wondering who will hold them next.

  • One Open Window

    One open window can make a house feel lighter, but it can also reveal what has been quietly building: clutter, overwhelm, and the strange fog of feeling half-present in your…

  • Raised by Wonder

    Long before I traveled through stories and recipes, National Geographic taught me to see the world with wide eyes, ask better questions, and imagine a kinder way to love than…

  • Between Oceans and Forests

    I came from salt air and ocean tides, but Minnesota’s lakes, forests, and fierce seasons taught me that home can be made from more than one kind of wildness.

  • Rest Over Resolutions

    After years of forcing myself into January resolutions, winter showed me a different rhythm built around rest, restoration, and trusting the season I was actually in.