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Recently I learned that the name January originates from the Roman God Janus. The Roman deity of beginnings, transitions, doorways, and passages. Often represented with two faces in sculpture work showing he both looks forward and back. Seeing the year of the past and the year ahead clearly all at once. This picture was striking
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Discovery is an odd term, especially when related to the idea of creative process. Do we ever actually discover anything? Or is there a grand energy pushing and pulling us towards poles of connection or rejection? I remember years back hearing a guy at work say he “discovered Pink Floyd’s music” the night before
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Author’s Note: The Arc, in Retrospect I didn’t write these pieces knowing they were a series. At first, they were scattered reflections—moments of pain, survival, disappointment, and growth. But looking back, I can see the arc clearly now. What began as a fragmented story about medical trauma became something deeper: a record of reckoning, healing,
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Spring 2024 Sometimes moving forward means letting go — not out of failure, but out of wisdom hard-won.This piece reflects on a difficult resignation, the weight of unmet expectations, and the quiet courage it takes to begin again. It’s about the art of the pivot — those moments we shift direction, not because the plan
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Spring 2024 Sunday matinees at the movie theatre — or any theatre, for that matter — have always been a favorite showing of mine. Due to recent world events (a global pandemic, with ongoing fallout — in case your rock dwelling doesn’t have internet) and having spent most of that time rotating in and out
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There are consequences to inaction. Especially when that inaction comes from people in power—people trusted to speak up, make decisions, and care for others in vulnerable positions. In the world of healthcare, silence is not neutral. It can be devastating. My time under the care of the University of Chicago’s medical system taught me that
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The Scientist is a fictional narrative drawn from the emotional terrain of lived experience — mine, and the many I’ve walked alongside. Though the characters are not real, the grief, the love, the shame, and the hope all are. Many times I process in storytelling form, laid down in ink on a page. This story
Salt and Signal Studios 