They say the things that captivate us when we are young often dictate (or ought to drive) our path in life. . I know this much: when I was ten years old I wanted to go everywhere, do everything and meet everyone. . I thought I wanted to be a travel agent, and then a…
In the last post, I shared a bit about the town of Piggott in northeast Arkansas, where I was fortunate to spend several days last spring with a friend. I’ve always had a little bit of an affinity for doing random things with random people or putting together an event or social gathering that throws…
Essays / Family / Life Lessons
We often think of love in the context of instants: spotting a future partner, walking down the aisle, the smacking reality of a brand new baby handed to us for safekeeping. It’s human nature to anticipate these pivotal moments and to inflate them in our minds, allowing them to serve as our definition of a deep…
The charming town of Piggott (population 3,774) sits on the edge of Crowley’s Ridge looking eastward toward the Delta, and it’s surrounded on three sides by Missouri. Happily for Arkansas, though, it’s all ours. When my pal and I made off far too late one evening in an easterly direction toward Piggott for a writers’…
We pulled through town and turned off the main thoroughfare, crossing the railroad tracks as we’ve always done and driving up the hill. . As it has for well over a century, the little old house sat there stoically as life moved on around it. Surrounded by streets on all three sides, it is its…
As mentioned in the kick-off post for the 2015 Shiny Objects series, it’s no secret that I frequently have a handful of items I’m coveting related to technology. Even as I work incredibly hard to reduce possessions in most facets of my life and continue to doggedly give away, consign or repurpose items we do…
Almost two years ago, I carried on (as I am wont to do) about a column I’m pining for that used to run in Lucky Magazine called How I’m Wired. I still miss it, and I’m still waiting for Lucky to call me about resuscitating the column. Le sigh. Anyway, in the aforementioned post, I listed my Nine Essential…
If you read my last post (In Defense Of The Blurry Ones), you know that I was recently sucked deep into the belly of a massive photography project and lived to tell the tale. In 2003 during maternity leave with my first child, I organized a lifetime of photography into albums. Perhaps you know the…
I’m a little bit passionate about photographs and memories. In 1997 – while living and studying in Dijon, France – I completed a seminal project which involved replicating photos from the 1850s from around the city of Chalon-sur-Saône in the Burgundy region. Chalon is regarded as the birthplace of photography and the home of Nicéphore Niépce, known…
At a recent holiday gathering, my eleven year old temporarily owned an array of miscellaneous items during a white elephant exchange. Before it was swiped away by a family member, she examined her spoils and found an unused disposable camera. In an effort to identify the strange item, she read the packaging and still appeared…
We were heading to the beach, and it felt like going to see an old friend. There is a goodness to revisiting a place you’ve been before, because the familiarity adds a layer of calm and knowing anticipation. We knew the landscape as it unfolded, and we saw it in a way that felt reassuring.…
As I’ve mentioned before, I have a bit of a chalkboard affliction. I’m always looking for the perfect seasonal quote for the giant chalkboard in our kitchen and other high-traffic spots around the house, like these. So a few days ago when I scoured the interweb for something that felt just right for autumn, I…
