making space for creativity
Last Sunday our church moved to its new summer home. This is the fifth space that we have regularly worshiped in over the past six years, just now overtaking the number of apartments that my husband, Evan, and I have shared over the same time span. As I stood toward the front of our…
School is officially out in Maryland this week, so today is another installment of Summer Reading: 10 Favorite Books. (Check out my fantasy series list). Just like the charming May B that I wrote about on Thursday, these books are set the in rough and romantic late nineteenth century. The late 1800s with its…
When I picked up Caroline Starr Rose’s book May B. this spring, I did not know it was going to be about a girl who had dyslexia. Until I was in my 20s, I did not know that I had dyslexia. I checked out May B. along with a host of other…
My first foray into natural hair care was when I went to France in the summer of 2005. My gorgeous spiral-curled brunette artist roommate Charity had brought along two English books. One was Gone with the Wind and the other was a paperback called Curly Girl by Lorraine Massey. Charity was the most beautiful…
In honor of our sixth anniversary last Sunday, here is the beginning of the story of Evan and me from seven springs ago… We met at history honor society. He was a tall handsome senior. I was a curly-haired, blond junior. In such a small program, we were both surprised there was a…
As temperatures fluctuate from 50 to 90 in late May in Maryland, and trees are in full summer greenery, school is about to be out. Summer is upon us. In honor of all my tutoring students who, even if they do not know it, are in search of good books to read over the summer,…
At Yellowstone, there are signs that ask people to not throw coins (or anything else) into the whimsically named colorful springs and pools. Since ancient time, waters have been seen as places of healing and life, where little water spirits might dwell and grant a wish whispered with a coin thrown. The sacrament of…
On vacation my mom, sister-in-law, and I will often do yoga together. My mom goes to yoga classes a couple times a week at home, and she is a good sport about trying my routines. Our exercise time in Yellowstone last week was mostly devoted to hiking, but we did squeeze in a quick…
When my brother and I were little, we used to play a game on long car rides called “In My Suitcase.” One of us would start out saying, “In my suitcase you will find” and then name something, like “five pairs of teal polka dotted socks.” The other person would then respond, “In my…
I have found growing friendships after college to be slow work. In college, it was a bit like scattering wildflower seeds on a fertile hillside. In only a few weeks or months, I had a beautiful array of budding blossoms. But after college, it seems that friendships mature more like trees. The growing seasons…
A few years ago when Evan and I went to visit our dear friends Julie and Brett, I noticed some of their beautiful books arranged by color on an antique bookshelf. I was smitten. I came home and promptly over-hauled our main three bookshelves by color. Every day, I look at them and enjoy…
Every few summers, my family has made its way to a small cabin in northwestern Ontario. For a week or two we live without electricity or running water in a little Canadian log cabin. Over the years that I have gone to the cabin, I have learned a little about making things by hand….
Ballet has shaped how I think about exercise and movement. My experience with ballet was marked with beauty and strength, focus and challenge. And that’s how I want to move now. I want to move within beauty. I want to grow stronger. I want to learn to focus, control, and challenge both my mind…
For my 27th birthday my grandfather gave me a freezer full of pheasant. Actually, the pheasant was left over from a South Dakota hunting trip, and that Christmas anyone was welcome to it. I don’t have a great penchant for pheasant (there is a reason the chicken was domesticated), but it was the perfect…
When my mother was a little girl, her Aunt Janice sent her a copy of CS Lewis’ The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. It just sat on the living room bookshelf, and one day with no prompting or introduction my mom picked it up. I could, as a child, always imagine this…