I promised this blog would be joy, not a job. So here’s me, joyfully late with stories from the last month on the road. Apologies for...

I want to be a writer, a photographer, an architect, and maybe try my hand at something in medicine. But somewhere along adolescence’s...

The road ahead blurs into the sunset, the wind tugging at the van like it has somewhere in mind, even if we don’t. With every mile, I...

This past week became a core memory, a reminder that these moments still happen—even in your 30s.

“What are you doing here?” My voice cracked as my arms lunged forward, my body moving before my mind could catch up. Tears welled and...

When I die, scatter some of my ashes in The Continental Club, along Congress Avenue. Ideally, do it on a night when a violinist is...