The Journal

Notes between the work

Reflections on caregiving, photography, travel, and the long, patient act of paying attention.

Why I Wrote Held in the Vanishing

On caring for two people as their memories slipped away — and the quiet decision to write it all down before it vanished too.

How a spiny desert plant wrapped in pink muhly grass became a meditation on tenderness and defense — and my favorite print in the shop.

After years of caregiving kept me close to home, I learned to travel again — slowly, and with almost nothing. A few things I carry now.

My mother could no longer name the year, but she could find her way home through a town that no longer existed. On the maps we keep when memory goes.