Time was when we had a neutral commons where those of us who wanted to say something could say it, try to earn people’s attention, and choose whether to give them our own. I’m speaking of course of the internet—a long decade ago, before social media swallowed it whole.
We Are the Eighth Day, © Melanie Weidner
Williams was at once theologian, mystic, poet, novelist, editor, playwright, and critic, not to mention (possibly) a living Anglican saint.
This collection is suffused with one of poetry’s most fundamental aims: making meaning out of suffering and loss.
Dementia is graphic. These illustrated narratives draw out insights to provide empathy and healing for caregivers.
Twice a year I take a day off to undo the work I get paid to do. This sounds batty, but it's becoming a spiritual practice of mine.
Few Americans may believe in witches—or in a Puritan God. Yet The Witch explores human impulses that are still with us.
Some painters mesmerize me. Albert Pinkham Ryder, Mark Rothko, and Georges Rouault, for example. Their work glows, albeit in different ways. Yet it’s Rouault I continue to follow. Why Rouault?
From his youth Lax experienced a love of God that would not abate, calling him toward both solitude and engagement with others.
That Dragon, Cancer is a unique video game: it offers us the experience of our powerlessness.
Honestly facing the conflict of self with self—and choosing words that reveal its particular manifestations in one life—is hard, hard work.