Lisa Stewart
Bio
Lisa is an emerging author and MFA candidate at Emerson College. She writes experimental fiction, poetry and dabbles in the supernatural realm. She was born and raised in Central NY, but her heart belongs to no earthly place.
Stories (5/0)
Self Care in a New Year
2021 is a year in which we are all hoping for transformative change, and let’s face it- the bar is set pretty low. So there’s a good chance that we can set some achievable goals and fulfill them, because after the dumpster fire of 2020, it feels good to want to feel good. A fresh start sounds amazing, and since this is a time where stereotypical New Year's resolutions are set (and often discarded) it might be a good time to consider a new approach to fresh start goal setting for 2021.
By Lisa Stewart3 years ago in Motivation
Guilty Pleasure: Hell's Kitchen
2020 was a year that delivered a gift of seemingly infinite time to kill and nothing to do. We were all staying home finding that family time that was otherwise limited to a few blissful gatherings or fleeting moments now became the everyday. We started eating together; not quick stops to a communal table, each of us scattering after the plate was swiftly cleared, but long and quite honestly, lovely meal times that had no expiry. With all this newfound time comes restlessness, and this is where the guilty pleasures start to come into play.
By Lisa Stewart3 years ago in Feast
Kentucky Fried Cash
The notebook rattled around the trunk of my 2006 Subaru Impreza, sliding to the back, getting wedged in between the spare waterproof floormats I would never use. A real gem of a Craigslist find, the car came in the nick of time. I had just depleted the last of my meager savings, had no backup plan, no prospects. My position as a substitute teacher in an early learning program was halted with no return time in sight. The pandemic had swiftly taken hold of my life and livelihood, and I was left, mouth gaping, wondering how I did not plan for a hundred year pandemic more thoroughly. My car payment was too high, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me when it was hauled away by the usually dreaded repo man. To me, he was a saint to take this burden off my back.
By Lisa Stewart3 years ago in Feast
Loss & Found
It is raining again, and the rain makes me melancholy. I look out my window, and I watch the fat icy drops cascade recklessly from the pale gray October sky. It always rains in October here, wetting the brightly colored leaves that have freshly fallen, covering them with a faint sheen that causes them to glisten as they build in numbers, piling higher as the days grow darker and the trees reluctantly shed in anticipation of winter.
By Lisa Stewart3 years ago in Humans
New Beginnings
The Covid-19 pandemic swept over my life like a tsunami following a faulty warning system. I was, like countless others, unprepared in every aspect of the word. But where I was before the pandemic is infinitely less important than where I am presently, and even less significant than where I will be when I come out the other end of it.
By Lisa Stewart3 years ago in Motivation
