For My Patrons 🔒: Hurricane Lessons (First Draft)
Storms are good teachers. Here are some of the lessons storms have taught me.
nonhuman
Non-human (also spelled nonhuman) is any creature or thing or stuff displaying some or all characteristics considered to define the human, but the creature or thing or stuff is not considered a human.
Playing the first 5 days of Field Guide to Memory
A week ago, I decided that I was going to play Field Guide to Memory by Jeeyon Shim and Shing Yin Khor every day, and the experience has been super enjoyable so far.
For My Patrons 🔒 : An excerpt of a memory
"I heard a noise, high and disturbing, utterly unfamiliar. It was coming from a huge truck parked a few metres ahead of us..."
2021: A Year In Books
This year's categories: Favourite Supervillain Novel; Favourite Mythological Remix; Favourite Family Mythmaking; Favourite Weaving of History and Historical Fiction; Favourite Epistolary Mindfuck; and Favourite Bildungsroman! (Oh, and Favourite Nonfiction too!)
Reading Notes on Fourteen Wolves: A Rewilding Story
A graphic novel caught my eye recently, the French translation of Fourteen Wolves: A Rewilding Story by Catherine Barr and Jenni Desmond.
For My Patrons: A Jumping Spiders' Perspective
"There is a balcony, high up, against a mountain of bricks. I am still little. The man brings out bags of earth and fills in the boxes. He plants little flowers. I have never seen flowers grow up."
Reading Log on Cockroaches In Autumn by Lydia Davis
There is one particular short story in The Collected Stories of Lydia Davis that I’ve adored since the very first time I read it, called Cockroaches in Autumn.
Drink tea and read ALL the books 2019.12.15
Split Tooth, Lettres en forêt urbaine, All Systems Red, Les brutes et la punaise, and more: there have been so many good books read this year!
Reading Notes on Jere Alexander's "And The Dogs Were Silent"
In this book, through pitbulls, we catch a glimpse into the absurdity of the human-dog relationship as it exists today in settler colonial North America.
A weekend at Ker Izela
We hop into the car late on Friday evening. A dog, five humans, lots of bags. Another human and two dogs will be joining us the next day up north. We drive through a night punctuated by blurred yellow lights as we get further north, the radio set to the rock station I listened to in high school.