In Brief, 2025: On Your/My Behalf
December 18, 2025
I do not abandon you without grief. You are not at fault. You were made how you were made. You’ve always done, simply, what you know. … More In Brief, 2025: On Your/My Behalf
Tag: inspiration
In Brief, 2024: No Te Escucho
December 18, 2024
I like how obscure this year’s post has become. It is maybe more showing than telling. It is also both narrative and not. This is how my life feels right now, and this ending of 2024 leaves me in the very place my notebook ends: with blank pages, with the last entry its own, crossed-out void. … More In Brief, 2024: No Te Escucho
Moonbox Notes #22: Febrero/Marzo
March 16, 2024
these bodies remain
earthlings, caught by storm
heartwoods, as brown as ever
otro día, nevado pero entero
as in, rooted, cradling light
a red, rubbled road into the sky—
why can’t we see it
the end to the storm … More Moonbox Notes #22: Febrero/Marzo
Moonbox Notes #21: Enero
January 25, 2024
Maybe some of you have wondered why I always share so much about Indigenous People. I hope this piece answers that for you. It is because I have an affinity for All My Relations (the belief that we are all related); it is because I have a duty to learn about and uphold the pieces of me that have been ignored by society, education, and even the communities I grew up in … More Moonbox Notes #21: Enero
Moonbox Notes #20: Diciembre
December 27, 2023
My brain, body, and soul have been restless. “The Holidays” have felt wrong for years, but this year was even more potent for me (unfathomable for those in Palestine). I’m done glazing over US Holidays as a status quo. … More Moonbox Notes #20: Diciembre
In Brief, 2023: Suggestions
December 18, 2023
And what better modes of suggestion than art or direct protest, both borne through our ability to use the imagination, where the rules of even kindness break down, where power is bewildered and navigation, endless. Where the ways of living out one’s life stun the status quo. … More In Brief, 2023: Suggestions
Moonbox Notes #19: Oct/Nov 2023
November 13, 2023
They touch. They toss themselves like an acrobat, back arching, tails curling momentum. The squirrels roam the slope, knead through soil, leaves, duff. Bury, unbury. They garden. They nurse. They take care. … More Moonbox Notes #19: Oct/Nov 2023
Moonbox Notes #18: Septiembre 2023
September 24, 2023
Surely they have bonded, mom and son-in-law in pre-work ritual. I was both happy she knew him and simultaneously aware that such a thing was impossible. But the message was there, that she knows and loves him, that she shares in the spaces we call home. … More Moonbox Notes #18: Septiembre 2023
Moonbox Notes #17: Agosto 2023
August 29, 2023
Lately, this introductory section has felt strange. Trivial. When I sit down to write it, I don’t really have words. Just a gently radiating sense of my humanness. A quiet, yet very much felt wash of annoyance or sadness or, perhaps for a brief moment, an exceptional nothingness. … More Moonbox Notes #17: Agosto 2023
Moonbox Notes #16: Jun/lio 2023
July 19, 2023
But, it’s fawn season and I’ve already seen a mama cross through the land with her two little ones. Plus, a mama squirrel with her fresh younglings. There’s also a crow family that nests nearby, and this morning they were heckling someone’s wandering, domestic cat. There is no shortage of non-human interactions here. … More Moonbox Notes #16: Jun/lio 2023
Moonbox Notes #15: Mayo 2023
May 30, 2023
But yawning is not quite the same as responding to something lovely with grief, so this analogy has probably failed, just as I failed to hold onto love at a formal table in a public space. At my wedding, my mother was just a picture, I thought. And yet it was no longer just a thought. … More Moonbox Notes #15: Mayo 2023
Moonbox Notes #14: Abril 2023
April 27, 2023
But I can only speak the languages of assimilation
of a lost knowing
of ways in which to peel
ear by ear
wool by wool
the bloodiest parts of the earth. … More Moonbox Notes #14: Abril 2023
Moonbox Notes #13: Marzo 2023
March 28, 2023
It allures me to recall again and again. And all I want is to surround myself with its sounds. This is the shape of you, dressed in your voice. … More Moonbox Notes #13: Marzo 2023
Moonbox Notes #12: Febrero 2023
February 20, 2023
…the memory became a limb of fate, an oracle of time possibly repeating itself. Patrick and I were at the start of a long road trip, on some highway in southern Idaho. We left the pullout on the side of the road and stopped at the first restaurant we came upon, a small diner. I think I ordered pancakes. I think we held hands across the table. It was also nearly Patrick’s 30th birthday. Happy birthday, no one lives forever anyway. … More Moonbox Notes #12: Febrero 2023
Moonbox Notes #11: January 2023
January 27, 2023
But the contract is the contract, and it was a bad contract. I have learned my lesson! And I have come a long way since 2021 in my career experience. So let this be a cautionary tale, I suppose. It’s tough to get paid your worth as a writer or a creative. And determining what that worth is might be even harder. It’s also strange to be a part of an anthology alongside big industry names… … More Moonbox Notes #11: January 2023
Moonbox Notes #10: Diciembre 2022
December 23, 2022
I will leave these thoughts as they are and place in them no weight. I will approach the stage but live my life along the way. I’ve made no decisions yet. What I look forward to the most is my growing relationship with joy in my writing and in my day-to-day. So let’s hang on to that, right? Will you be a sister to me, with me, for me? A mother, a father, a brother, a friend? … More Moonbox Notes #10: Diciembre 2022
In Brief, 2022: The Pangs of Our Hope
December 18, 2022
I suppose the reality-check is thus: I am more than the drama or the pain and I am even more than a truthseeker or a supporter of justice. I am also mundane. Giddy. At times complacent. Full of fantasies. I fail at simple, unentertaining things. The first thing I do in the morning is boil water. … More In Brief, 2022: The Pangs of Our Hope
Moonbox Notes #9: November 2022
November 21, 2022
How it must be something so intimate and deep
It must mean that it was once tethered
Was once a part
Yet repeated, related
So innate and dearly tied
It must have been hungry
It must have been fed
Was once a whole
Sewn in parts repeating, relative… … More Moonbox Notes #9: November 2022
Moonbox Notes #8: Octubre 2022
October 27, 2022
This animation of the void, if you will, opened endless doorways for interpretation and use in an almost meta-like manner. I imagined an abyss, or a slippery slope of want vs need, where the most tender and provocative spaces exist for a person. In the poem, this is where the quiet hauntings might be born or reside or speak from. … More Moonbox Notes #8: Octubre 2022
Moonbox Notes #7: Septiembre 2022
September 14, 2022
Many people ask, though, “What if you don’t like Durango? What if you want to come back to Boulder?” And while I entertain the possibility of wanting to return, my heart is telling me that leaving Boulder is only going to be a healing thing. It is the best decision for us at this point in our lives. … More Moonbox Notes #7: Septiembre 2022
bivytales.com 