Find me on Instagram at @awriterwhodraws
I'm leaving Portland Oregon Heres Why
I fell in love with Oregon when I was 14, from the backseat of my aunt's tiny car, which was stuffed to the brim with other family members. The mist hanging on the tall pines seemed magical. My shoulders relaxed, and the air soothed my lungs.
I Took a Break From Writing to Fall in Love Again
Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Ever been away from a lover and felt the ache in your heart? It's a physical sensation, a palpable pull in the core of your being. I used to get that feeling about writing. I couldn’t wait to get my stories out.
- Created with: VoiceGift
The Perfect Addition to Any Mother's Day GiftCreated with: VoiceGift
2020 showed me the value of small gestures. After moving thousands of miles from my hometown, I found myself craving the sense of community I once had. So I started reaching out more, and through writing letters, making phone calls, and sending cards, I started to understand the value of not only crafting relationships but nurturing them.
The Soap with 18 Uses that is Transforming Sustainable Living
Welcome to the new Earth-centered community on Vocal! I'm so excited to read your stories and beef up my sustainability game, but to get you started, If I must, I'll relinquish my secret hack for living more eco-friendly.
Feminity Through the Eyes of a Tomboy
I saw a fallen tree in the park today. Its trunk was large and sturdy, moss covering the cracked bark. The old oak's roots shot out in all directions. Thousands of spiraled coils had previously anchored the tree to the earth. Like that tree once did, I'm still creating my roots. This chapter of womanhood, for me, is the beginning. I turned 22 in March, and I am just starting to solidify my foundation and identity.
Dear Mom; Thank You
"All that I am or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel mother." ― Abraham Lincoln Dear Mom, They say it takes a village to raise a baby; in some ways, I agree. I do remember spending time with family and friends. But my most vivid memories from childhood are the ones that include you scooping me up after a long day at work, the chemically smell of the hospital clinging to your scrubs.
Remembering Kobe Bryant
I played basketball for 8 years. During that time Kobe was my least favorite player. Because he was so good, and only ever played for the Lakers, my least favorite team. I knew no matter what he never had an off night, and he was going to do everything he could to get the win.
How I'm Learning to Trust My Writing Voice
Some are born with a purpose, others have to wait until a crisis for clarity, and for some, it never comes. For myself, it's always been writing. That doesn't mean I didn't deny myself my occupation. I convinced myself it was too competitive or that I lacked the talent. I refused to accept my purpose because I was scared to fail.