The same, but different.

“Whatever this was, is passing. Back to life, then, whatever that brings. To a Monday morning. The same, but different.”

The peace of wild things

“…the only swimsuit I own has an extremely sexy cut out panel of mesh plunging across my breasts to my navel, and I’m not sure that ‘podium dancer on a fag break’ is the look I need to inflict on the other early-morning athletes…”


“My heart is full with the feeling that I belong, that we all belong. The borders we have drawn do not really exist. The land is here to support whoever walks upon it, whoever is thankful enough to scan the horizon and take in the sky, to inhale lungfuls of humid cool air and willingly give back the treasure they have borrowed from the ground.”


“Perhaps it was that last cocktail which dislocated time. Because something profound happened to me in the following twenty-four hours that I just know no matter how many words I write I will not be able to properly articulate…”

What love is this?

I don’t really know how to describe this piece. It’s about love, about family, about where we come from and what the pandemic has done to those ties.