On her quest, Christine Kenneally covered mindboggling ground on Earth – from Tasmania to Iceland — and also in her pages. The result are human stories that promise to grip the reader, crank their brains, and ache their hearts.
I love the Vince Guaraldi Trio just as much as the next person, but at this rate radio channels and stores have been blasting Christmas songs since October and sometimes I I need a break. Here are a few non-holiday tunes to warm your ears during this chilly month. Don’t Wanna Be Your Girl – …
The opening shots are of a skier getting ready for the day— “The Mountains” calling on the phone, teeth getting brushed, bites taken out of a breakfast burrito, gear organized in piles—only the toes that hit the floor ready to be shoved into ski boots have bright pink polish on them. And so begins Pretty …
Flowfold hand sews (on a sewing machine, in a cabin in Maine, by candlelight, I imagine) all of their wallets and bags out of scrap sailcloth that would have otherwise ended up, non-biodegradable, in a landfill.
At this time of year, things start moving faster, the wind picks up, shit’s falling from the sky; it’s all getting a bit fuzzy. These jams are fuzzy, too, but they don’t fight it. They cultivate it. I think there’s a lesson in there. Did I just make a koan? I doubt it. The sound of no hands clapping.
The documentary Walking the Camino: Six Ways to Santiago beautifully illustrates this interesting, quintessentially human desire to explore the world while exploring the soul. The film follows six individuals the 780 kilometers (nearly 500 miles) from St Jean Pied de Port, located on the French side of the Pyrenees, across the Spanish frontier to the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela.
If I ever travel to Cote d’Ivoire, I’m sure I’ll be shocked to discover that it isn’t a living, breathing replica of Benin. Nine Hills to Nambonkaha is so evocative of my own Peace Corps experience it is confounding each time I remind myself that it takes place between 1998 and 2000, not 2012 and …
After four short months here, I harbor an intense appreciation not just for the music that this city was built upon, but for the pervading spirit of musical innovation. Before I moved to Nashville, I kept receiving warnings from people that “I better learn to like country music.” These people were not from Nashville. It’s not just about country music anymore, people.
Largely based on the format of a how-to book she stumbled on at a thrift shop, Dunham’s essays in Not That Kind of Girl offer unexpected wisdom. The most impactful stories delve into what-not-to-dos, rather than to-dos. In an email to a once-boyfriend, Dunham wrote, “I’m sorry not to you, but in a deeper way, sorry for my brain chemistry and who I am.” There is humor in her revelations, but also the tragedy of a girl in all of her ferocity, denying her power.
In My Accidental Jihad, we are introduced to the author when she is a twenty-something who took a job at a Planned Parenthood clinic in California, which not only allowed her to put into practice her passion for women’s rights but also allowed her to surf.