Today Letter.

Worth

Worth

I was taught as a child that I was worth as much as a man. I was taught that with brains and ambition and education I could be what I wanted, and that was a gift. So much of the prophecy proved true. I was taught that strength in the body was not wedded to brawn, that it could be realized through grace, that all power was resilience. 

read more
A girl named Q

A girl named Q

She didn’t wear makeup, never had, in part because no one had taught her, until that summer when the wall went red and her lips along with it, when she perfected the art of applying red lipstick. M.A.C. Lady Danger, I think it was. She rarely left home without it past sunset. She was 25. 

read more
Two birds

Two birds

I am not the only one trying to shake the sleep of winter. Not the only one working to build something, gathering stray bits and rearranging them to make a home more pleasing, or more supportive of my needs. I am not the only one propelled by instinct, even when I do not recognize it as such.

read more

On cocoons

I am not the only one trying to shake the sleep of winter. Not the only one working to build something, gathering stray bits and rearranging them to make a home more pleasing, or more supportive of my needs. I am not the only one propelled by instinct, even when I do not recognize it as such.

read more
In dreams

In dreams

If you sliced open a caterpillar’s cocoon, you’d expect to find a tiny beast, a creature that would look new to you yet somehow familiar. Half caterpillar, half butterfly, perhaps a shiny and squiggly green grub just starting to sprout wings; wet, furled, squished into its soft, shrouding casing. But that is not what you would find.

read more
Part I. The haunting

Part I. The haunting

Last night I dreamt of my mother. She had been gone a long time.

“Can you stay?” I asked her. “I never get to see you.”

She didn’t answer, and instead pointed to my chest. 

“Your heart is bigger than it was last time,” she said, more observation than offering. “But it still has room to grow.”

read more

Yes, we must

There is something haunting about a rip in your skin. It reminds you that the whole thing could fall apart, turn to ribbons and dust. It reminds you, in fact, that one day it will. And then you are left with that to think about. 

read more

Popular posts.

No Results Found

The page you requested could not be found. Try refining your search, or use the navigation above to locate the post.

Take a look around.

online course

 

Be your own best editor.

services

 

What are you making?

about

 

Get to know me.

Christie Chisholm Creative © 2019

Christie Chisholm Creative © 2019

Pin It on Pinterest

Share This