I pulled into the driveway across from Hoover reservoir on a rainy April morning. The road was jammed with people coming to watch the regatta. … Read More »Carole’s Story: Love of Art, Art of Love
For the last ten years or so, instead of cultivating admirers, I’ve been quietly investing hours and hours in two friendships.
A growing sense of absence followed Dad’s fall. I was on my own. There was no hand to hold me.
Surely, you’ve gone through periods where you had a song on “repeat.” But not necessarily because the music made your feel good.
Lewis evokes the experience of having a distorted and healthy story that begins to heal.