My paying gig as front-desk customer service at a community arts center means I get to talk to a lot of people. Some people are signing up for classes with Portland Parks, some are visiting our art gallery, some are looking for something else altogether. What I do every day is sorting out what people... Continue Reading →
I've waited in many surgical waiting rooms, nervously sorting the contents of my purse or reorganizing a file box I brought just to release some of the tension that builds when getting my child ready for surgery. My projects never lasted as long as the surgeries, due to my excessive, jangled speed and the way surgeries... Continue Reading →
I've written extensively about my daughter, and a little about my youngest son Thomas, but in the background of these thoughts has always been my relationship with my oldest, Matthew. I need to correct that. Matthew was the child who arrived when I was still a child, barely 21 years old, a college student pregnant... Continue Reading →
Like almost everybody I know, I've been struggling since the election. Well beyond "my side lost", the weight of what happened that night has been nearly impossible to carry. It almost buried me that night; horror, despair, anger, disgust, the view that this cataclysmic event launched us into a new, terrifying epoch. As I'd been... Continue Reading →
I'm moving furniture tonight. Sometimes moving furniture helps me get unstuck, jolted out of a space where I can't make sense. Tonight I'm doing it because I need familiar things around me. The kids (sans one) will be coming over for Thanksgiving, and I want this to feel like a home, something they're familiar with.... Continue Reading →
Meg Currell 