The Invitation of the Artist: Remembering What Beauty Our Messes Bring
I didn’t like how rifling through my backpack for my journal disturbed the place. But, the place didn’t seem to mind. Maybe it enjoyed...
Reverence is Screaming
Driving around in my parent’s Volvo with heated seats and working windshield wipers to keep the rain off, I was almost in tears as a...
What's Been Underground for More than Three Days.
The church I had been to only once before felt surprisingly like home this particular Sunday. Maybe it was because I was with my awesome...
