. . . my practice connects me to the visceral nature of playing an instrument, the raw thrumming vibration that courses through your body when you put your hands on the keys.
How I’ve Missed You
Midnight Mass
I remember the year I was old enough to go to Midnight Mass. My uncle was in town for Christmas, and he took me -- just me, no siblings -- to the darkest, most mysterious Mass of the whole year. I was probably 10, the youngest of five, and all of my siblings were now... Continue Reading →
Expected Date of Confinement
Being able to plan for a period of illness with a finite timeline and a known positive outcome is like preparing for birth
Relief and Gratitude
. . . my life is ripe and full and luscious . . . Like aging, this opportunity to mature and learn is a gift . . .
Iced Milk
Having contact with people who will listen without trying to convince me that my experience could not possibly have been as bad as I claim, who then have their own stories that line up in tidy parallels to mine makes me feel like I'm suddenly whole, real, verifiable.
Meg Currell 