Bread and Stories
Seeding the Story Vault
I think we tell and hear too few kinds of stories about ourselves...
Bread and Stories
I think we tell and hear too few kinds of stories about ourselves...
chicken soup
In our digitally intertwined, always-on lives, one of the more startling windows into another person's day is the accidental connection: the butt-dialed call, the mis-addressed email or text. Yesterday I answered the phone and heard a friend cussing at some "moron" in traffic.
stories
I was born in Misrata, a city on the Mediterranean coast of Libya, but I took my first steps in Tripoli where I grew up and spent most of my life. From an early age I was bilingual, speaking Arabic and Tamasheq, the Tuareg language. The two languages embody vastly different ways of being...
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Or: "Lady, I'd Move."
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Or, why we don't need advice from a guy wearing the Ring of Power.
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Some thoughts on heroes and monsters after reading Beowulf.
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Updated thoughts on why two obscurely named figures of speech matter.
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A 4th-generation Litvak American traces her roots with the help of strangers and AI.
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Or, why we are not Gregor Samsa.
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Or, there may be nothing more American than intentional communities.
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Take care of your wish. —John Ciardi, The Wish-Tree Often these days, I wake up in the middle of the night and can’t get back to sleep. I lie in the dark as dreams and memories, wishes and fears drift by like phosphenes. Night distorts distances and blurs
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Here is a list of five things I did last week to validate my proverbial parking space on earth. Just kidding; I’d rather share some books. Modern Masters for children: was that a good idea? Happy Birthday, [xx] year old! When my sister typed that line in a chat