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IR: Courtship, Accountability, and Performance Art Intimacy
I’ve been quiet here since I’ve been traveling, driving solo from DC to LA, but the other night I had the happy experience of an evening with Sarah and Micah Murray, and we talked a lot about our...
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Thankfulness Link Up
First off, thank you to everyone who expressed interest and then was patient and understanding when I didn’t show up on Friday with my post as planned. Life did some unexpected things and I spent most...
View ArticleIR: “Biblical Grounds”
I feel like Stuff Christian Culture Likes is the comedy version of my Immodesty Rail pieces. If you don’t know Stephanie Drury‘s work yet, check it out. Her best work may be her themed Twitter...
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Vulnerability
I wrote a post about feeling displaced last January, three weeks after I’d had to move out to give my [now] ex-husband the space he thought he needed to clear his head and recommit to our marriage. I...
View ArticleThe ethics of leaving fundamentalism
Fundamentalism isn’t an ideology, it’s a habit of thought patterns. Fundamentalism is based in fear. Fear of not being heard, fear of being invalidated, fear of attack, of erasure, of silencing....
View ArticleI have not yet begun to be proud.
Okay, so, basically, my blog is currently useless if you’re not familiar with Brené Brown’s work on shame, especially Daring Greatly. Just get a copy already. [On another note, I’m still working on a...
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Introducing: The Swan Children
I have been waiting impatiently for this day to come, and now it’s here and I can finally tell you what I’ve been working on for the past two months. Introducing! The Swan Children: Art Without...
View ArticleEveryday sexism: the tale of two boys
I’m pretty sarcastic and snarly at the patriarchy most days, but I’ve recently gotten more fed up than usual and we need to talk. Sit down. Pour a cuppa or a finger of whiskey or a beer or whatever you...
View ArticleDriver’s Ed, RVA
I wrote this back in September 2014. xo, h. * It was raining when he picked me up. I dashed through the steaming air and bounce-slam into the back seat behind Jean. Jean was tense, her shoulders riding...
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A gift
I’m sitting at the picnic table in my parents’ kitchen, the mess of art projects and nubbins of flowers picked by siblings and half-finished notebooks and Costco packs of food surround me. Walking down...
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