Moonbox Notes #4: May 2022

It’s been 7 weeks. A span of time that is impossible to convey without some form of exaggeration. It’s been like dreaming. Mountains rise and fall away. The tightness changes into pain into tightness into dull shapes at the heel or arch or up the calf in cables. There are moments I forget everything. Sleep a black sleep. Then there are flashing scenes: tea bag, tent pitch, the slow tug of a climbing shoe around the heel, a spoon on the tongue, hairbrush, riverbank, paintings of indigenous feminism in a museum. … More Moonbox Notes #4: May 2022

Moonbox Notes #3: April 2022

The festival itself encompasses aspects of this as well, the play of meeting new people, the play of finding yourself sipping rum and coke as you watch people spin fire, the play of helping others, the play of witnessing visual art in a public space, the play of learning hard truths — play, as in, the novelty, sure, but also the reciprocity, the indulgence, the curiosity, the embodiment, the unpredictability. … More Moonbox Notes #3: April 2022

Moonbox Notes #2: March 2022

Even the Gray Wolf with a dark, mottled coat that stares at me from the wall-calendar photo is a part of this meta-equation. The forested background is blurred, the foreground is soft in grass and wind, the only sharpness being the wolf: a premise, if you will, one that contemplates the viewer. Not unlike a physical bridge, where what happens before and after, or maybe even during the crossing, is specific to the user; the prompt is only ever a bridge. … More Moonbox Notes #2: March 2022

Moonbox Notes #1: February 2022

The whiteboard has words like cupless and scree scribbled on it, a part of a list. It has reminders to work on edits for current projects, rediscover and submit writing that has lived on my hard drive for over a decade, have my IUD removed from my uterus, schedule a mammogram for August. For now, at least, I can leave the need to think about removing my ovaries hanging abstractly in the air. … More Moonbox Notes #1: February 2022

My First Red Rock Rendezvous

When the festival began at the Spring Mountain Ranch State Park, I pitched my tent into a corner of the designated grass field, near the barbed-wire fence, so strangers couldn’t flank me on all sides (pro-tip?). I’m glad I did so; when the crowds arrived, tents were stacked next to each other like dominoes—and domino pieces are exactly what I thought of that very night. At 2:45 a.m., I woke to my tent pressed against my face. … More My First Red Rock Rendezvous

I have a theory.

When I think about it now, I’m honestly not sure whether I was addicted to the mountain views or to the fascination these trips inspired from others waiting back at camp. Either way, the moment allowed my power to manifest in a way that was visible to the world around me. … More I have a theory.

Falling for Nature: A Diné & Asian-American Perspective

…the more we nurture the outdoor community the less it matters where we come from and how, or what we look like—but media and society at large unfortunately see things through filtered lenses, and many of us come from places and backgrounds rarely mentioned.

From marginalized history to the epitome of a refugee family’s American Dream, the second post in this series will feature 2 people who have found the great outdoors in their own introspective ways. … More Falling for Nature: A Diné & Asian-American Perspective

Dither Me This #16: OmWork

Looking back, it’s easy to identify these things, but at the time, I was blinded by my drive to merely work out. I mean, I knew I liked it, but was I going to start incorporating these ideas and practices into my everyday life? Eh. Probably not. I wasn’t one of those hippy granola people. I’d like to think of it as being in the “talking” stage of a relationship. I liked yoga; but wasn’t totally invested quite yet…just keeping my options open, you know? … More Dither Me This #16: OmWork