Guest Blog Post | My First Heartbreak As a New Mom

You have to be patient, especially in a situation where you have no control.

Love Letter #79 | She Assaulted my hair

Symbolic of life, hair bolts from our head[s]. Like the earth, it can be harvested, but it will rise again. We can change its colour and texture when the mood strikes us, but in time it will return to its original form, just as Nature will in time turn our precisely laid-out cities into a weed-way.

– Diane Ackerman, A Natural History of the Senses

Love Letter #70 | Has Cupid Forsaken Me?

My environment doesn’t suggest that it’s okay to be shot by Cupid. As far as I know, if I allow the cherub to shoot me, I run a high risk of being slapped by his fisted hand, shot by his gun, slashed by his machete or even stabbed by his knife.