The genesis to my story of how I came to love writing really begins with my mother.
Once, at seven or eight years old I told her I was really bored. It was a weekend day.
"Bored?" She said. "Here, I'll help you."
She proceeded to hand me a full page list of chores and the tasks kept me occupied until near bedtime.
I dreaded the idea of another long list from my mother.
In order to make sure I was never bored again, I took a spiral notebook and started writing stories about the places I knew.
I wrote a book, binding it with cardboard and took photographs to make it a picture book.
Now the stories I like to tell are of the places we all know; the freedom of traveling, the joy of closeness, the world of grief, curiosity of our internal homeland.
I send letters each month exploring those places, those parts of life (You can read them here).
These letters from me to you are meant to be a digital space for what feels true, either in the form of fictional stories,
or stories from my own life.
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