April 18, 2023
Living in Montreal with no family, no mountains and no purchase of a property to anchor us, the question of “where is home” became insistent, especially after I lost the religious beliefs of my childhood.
May 11, 2020
Sanctuary is the name of my parent's home on the LaHave River. Sanctuary describes both the soul of the place and the meaning of home. Home, not as a structure or a particular location, but as a place where relationships are built and sustained, where family can always find refuge.
April 15, 2020
I feel at home in the trees in a way that defies my prairie upbringing. Maybe because before they were farmers, my ancestors carved small homesteads out of primeval European forest in ages past. And even more recently lived in the woods.
December 19, 2019
I can't guarantee their safety, success, or well-being. I can't guarantee my own. This is the deep aching vulnerability of being human.
October 29, 2019
If I had known, in my early twenties that I was a mountain girl I would have never moved east. I would have gone west.
October 9, 2019
I associated the mountains with summer vacation. It wasn't a place you lived, despite the obvious evidence of locals, it was a place you visited.
April 25, 2019
I grew up in the happy bubble of secure ignorance. This is not a bad thing for a child to experience. In fact I think it's one of the most developmentally supportive conditions, for childhood. But eventually you have to grow up and become aware of your own privilege.