He clears a back room, so I may have a writing space of my own. He tells me, “Why not? Just write. Let me support you.” He plans to one day build a writing cabin. He can do this because his hands belong to his … Continue reading Let Go

He clears a back room, so I may have a writing space of my own. He tells me, “Why not? Just write. Let me support you.” He plans to one day build a writing cabin. He can do this because his hands belong to his … Continue reading Let Go
Two and a half hours of my first Orthodox service A procession of icons around the church “I don’t recommend high heels,” the priest says We press through snow pack and pass icicles thick as beets Somali toddlers weave between our legs Eleven languages spoken … Continue reading The Sunday of Orthodoxy in Missoula