She, who is fearless, who walks out of the wilderness feral-shouldered and unbroken.
The sacred excavation of helixed antiquity and brand-newness.
I'll try to answer a few questions about the craft of being creative.
There is an oceanic pain-knowing, a tide no soul should ever be made to swim against.
How do we know that we're writing something good, and not just tossing words on a page?
If you're a longtime Hevrianik, you might remember me writing a serial. It started with Cross-Country Lesbian Hasidic Road Trip.
Imagine a web of gracious creation woven from utter destruction.
My parents Abe and Sara wanted to be radical and change everything. But my rebellion was just being normal. Or at least, that’s what you would think if you saw me.