You are a violent glamour, a dagger carved from obsidian.
Haikus that touch the heart of my passions and my quest for answers and fun.
It was the last chicken in Brooklyn. Well, the last one that was still clucking.
And other Yom Kippur tips for embracing our imperfect selves.
Let us know the generousness of wild, abiding and unbounded love.
Where is the space in a three day Yontif to balance communal responsibilities and solitary recharging practices?
Is it even a leap of faith if you know you can’t help but land softly?
When I publish a post, I have an adventure, a game, and an OCD wonderland.
