The birth of a song

It was legitimately cold on Monday when I met Sarah at the refugee center. We posted papers on the wall and invited people to join us. That morning, I had texted Sarah a few lines from a Robert Frost poem, “Fences make good neighbors.” She suggested that we write them at the top of the…

Carte Postale nos. 3 & 4: The Limbo Zone

Driving through the middle of these United States, Malcolm sent me a text with a photo that has become my favorite thus far. Malcolm: This is the canal lock in La Salle, Illinois. Had to drive down and inspect the past? Love the engineering of raising and lowering water level by locking it in for…

Carte Postale no. 2: Silos at dawn

My update was cut short yesterday by a run-in with a kamikaze plate that sent me to the ER for five stitches in my left pinky finger. Will I still be able to play ukulele? I asked the doctor in woozy voice. Can you feel this? he asked me as he pinched the tip of…