Ever since I can remember, I’ve loved playing in the dirt. That bottle by my side in this picture taken circa 1971 in Chile? It’s a vegetable oil bottle my mom let me have, a perfect receptacle in which to make… chocolate milk, of course. Dirt and water. I can… [Continue Reading]

I remember the day I noticed I was both judgey and jealous of people with money. My boyfriend at the time was thinking of buying a high end BMW and I was mortified. Turns out, I didn’t want to be seen in such a luxury car. What would people think?!… [Continue Reading]

My first crush ever was my best friend’s brother. This was in southern Chile. His parents were farmers whose parents hailed from Germany. We–my friend, my crush, my brother, and I–played in the hay bales in their barn. My next noteworthy crush was a visiting preacher’s son. He was Argentine… [Continue Reading]

(Or: Thoughts as I Walk to my Temporarily-Closed Office) Walked to my office this morning–May 29, 2020–to pick up a fan which was going unused there. Passed people wearing masks. A few not. Stopped at drugstore for a prescription. Hear man six feet in front of me tell pharmacist that… [Continue Reading]

This old guy started coming to my yoga class a few months ago. A complete beginner, I thought, based on how he’d look around to get his bearings and figure out from his neighbors where his feet should be, say, or what it meant when our teacher said “hips facing forward” for warrior one, and then “opening your hips” for warrior two, “as if you were pressed between two planes of glass.” [Continue Reading]

There are lots and lots of things I believe to be true which I later discover I was partly or utterly wrong about. You may think me odd, but the realization that I could be wrong fills me with something like (but much better than!) hope: a sense of possibility. Imagine… [Continue Reading]

Lonesome? Pull up a chair. This is for you. Everyone knows the alone in the cafeteria feeling. Even people who never sat alone in the cafeteria know the alone in the cafeteria feeling. You sit down. You open your brown paper bag hoping your mom didn’t go too heavy on the… [Continue Reading]

One of my favorite songs of all time was written by the late Chilean poet Violeta Parra and made famous by the now-also-late belovèd Argentine folk singer Mercedes Sosa, who was affectionately known as “la negra”. This song makes me incredibly homesick: homesick for Chile, homesick for Latin America, and… [Continue Reading]