Creative Non-Fiction
Where Longing Lives

Where Longing Lives

I am not homeless in the literal sense and I don’t have the language to describe the home for which I feel intense longing. Terrene, waves, raindrops, bark, foundation, walls, roof, pen strokes on a page, flick of the tongue, tightening of lips, closure of the vocal chords, intimacy, trust, embrace, connection.

Thoughts on Community

Thoughts on Community

I think of all the times as a child my mother has sent me over to the neighbour’s with a bag of garlic, when they asked for just a clove. These acts of care, mercy, and consideration have been happening under society’s collective radar.

Sense of Touch

Sense of Touch

Chia buồn is how one expresses condolences in Vietnamese. Instead of my thoughts are with you or sorry for your loss, the term literally means to divide (chia) sadness (buồn). If only I could have invited others to hold pieces of my shattered heart when Ông Nội died...

Breathe In Your Surroundings

Breathe In Your Surroundings

Someone has cut the brakes on modern life. Car doors slam and trolleys scramble. The lips and nose of strangers are covered by a blue screen. Behind closed doors the bombardment of news stories causes the heart to panic. It feels as though the ground has been pulled...

Fesenjoon

Fesenjoon

Traditional Iranian dishes take hours to make. Each family has their own recipes and preferences passed down from previous generations experimenting in the kitchen, but I did not grow up in a culture that allowed for time to be spent making food, unless you were...