On Being Homesick

I’d never felt what it was like to be homesick. As a kid, at sleepovers or summer camp or trips to my grandparent’s house, I never once had a pit in my gut. I never felt the dry of my mouth, the pang in my side. I’d never known what it was like to have

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India

What did I do in India? you ask. A whole lot of unlearning. — The short of it is this: I traveled to Jaipur with my incredible friend Carly at Tribe Alive to check in on a design project with the fine folks at CAUSEBOX. (More on that front, obv.) The long of it is

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In A Small Town

Nearly everything you need to know about my childhood can be summed up in a Mellencamp song. (Well, not everything.) — Indiana is quiet, simple. In the summer, it bursts with ripe tomatoes and happiness, and in the winter, the sprawling cornfields rest under blankets of snow. There is space here, plenty of it. Room

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Away Message

When it’s late summer and the heat has passed, you find yourself deflating the pool floaties and moving the sunscreen to the back shelf of the medicine cabinet. You wash and fold swimsuits, beach towels; find storage for that massive sun hat. Sprinkler to the attic. You get to work. You meet deadlines, schedule meetings,

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Home, Or Not

The greatest thing about living in the Midwest is the affordable travel factor. Save some nickels on a fixer-upper and – boom – you’ve got yourself a cheap home base where you can travel the world, stamp your passport, road trip to Anywhere, then mosey on back home to wash your whites/visit your mother/downward dog

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Thoughts On Help

Well, Haiti then. I don’t know how to process large moments, grand gestures. Once in Los Angeles, I walked into a roomful of 15ish friends gathered for my surprise birthday party and, after becoming startled and then grateful, I promptly accepted a mimosa and hid in the bathroom to take deep breaths for four, five

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Over & Out

I didn’t anticipate a passport stamp to Haiti. But then again, rarely do I anticipate the greatest gifts. Ken, out of left field. Bee, surprise! Even the site you’re reading this on, this glowing rectangle that’s oddly held just enough space for a decade of myself? Wildly unexpected. And now here’s Haiti. I’m going for

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Wait and See

When the season begins to shift in the Midwest, when the leaves begin to float from their branches and collect on the sidewalks in oranges and yellows and rubies, we all take notice. Garage doors fly open; kids play badminton in the driveway. Bikes that have grown dust in the hot summer months whiz by

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