Story of Esther Vashti / We Gaze & We OwnWe own the rights to herbut she will not show. She...
Driving a cool eighty-five-miles-per-hour on the rural Arkansas freeway, it felt like the migrating birds overhead were escorting me. I kept thinking of Ken Miles in Ford v Ferrari saying to his son, Peter: “You’re moving fast. But as the car speeds up everything else slows down. You see everything.”...
I bless my morning coffee and the trick is, don’t think about the coffee.
enough with miracles,enough with celebrations of finding that final limitlessjar of oil we tiptoe through the polluted wilderness on day...
I was in my teens when the visits to Stanetsky’s Funeral Home became routine. It began with my four grandparents. I don’t remember the order in which they died and couldn’t tell you the difference between one funeral or the other. But I remember the doors of the family room...
All her adult life she had journeyed with him. They had a dependable home and a beautiful garden. They raised...
Dad told methe Chief Rabbigave a dispensation for Jewish servicemento eat the bully beefin their cans even thoughit wasn’t kosher,so...
This morning my flavor of coffee is my own anxiety.
For the sake of public health, the chazanim pare an hour from shacharis like they’re carving an ice sculpture. The machzor’s words rumble...