It’s hard not to mock the classic “hang in there, baby” sign, or it’s recent equivalents in rose gold calligraphy. It’s so vapidly upbeat, oblivious to the complicated obstacles that stand in the way of happiness or success, as if finding fulfillment is a matter of telling yourself to do it. And yet, here I am, scrolling Pinterest for the perfect computer wallpaper that says “create”.
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Over the past 10 years, I’ve watched myself shift modes of self expression, from artistic and metaphorical to literary and literal. Am I less creative than I used to be, or do I just not have any patience for obfuscation?
Watercolor on paper, c. 2006. I imagined what it would be like to have wings but no arms.
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Like procrastibaking, but you shouldn’t eat the results. Read More
It’s what’s hiding under all that anxiety, right? Read More
So this may seem obvious, but I have trouble leaving the past in the past. Read More
Insert joke about Jewish mothers here. Read More
On being the elephant in the room… Read More
When your body says: “Why not have both?” Read More
Last week I started a series of weekly research trips, the practical end of my maternity leave Read More