For the past two months, I've been building Archive, a private digital reading room for my Muses & Sirens letters and the larger body of artwork and writing surrounding them. It’s essentially the subscriber home for my private correspondence—a collection of lyrical letters on embodiment, desire, ritual, grief, love, art, and the wild and holy mystery of the feminine, all preserved on my own domain rather than housed inside a newsletter platform such as Substack or Beehiiv. By the time...

Like cotton candy dipped in water, the prior year has dissolved into nothingness, but I, who have tasted its sweetness, can still feel its strawberry-flavored sugar on my tongue—and its sticky residue. I’ve been stretched and spun into delicate strands of heated sucrose; body temperature cool, yet internally melting under an eternal, radiant summer sun. I am gooey and compressed, clear, peach syrup. This past summer, the muse that echoes within me returned to the world—with a pen in her...

Brunches on the weekends. Phone calls > texts. Summer holidays in Tuscany. “Bestie telepathy.” Transparency and compassionate honesty. Mirroring (and reflecting) vibrant, emotionally mature, healed energy.… This is what we’ve manifested. We are mutual warmth in an ice storm; and sisters from another life. -- As a wayfarer, and someone who’s ever reinventing herself, maintaining friendships while simultaneously chasing creative pursuits, career aspirations and a dream existence is challenging. Truthfully, I am the quintessential “busy” friend. The one who’s always...