I worry and ruminate about a lot of things: like speaking with people I admire.
The costumer at the National Institute of Flamenco Arts making masks during the pandemic.
I loved going to my grandpa's house in Adailiya, and now I love listening to my mom's stories about her youth there.
He took his boat out at night because the water was as still as olive oil. Alone, he was startled by a swimming cow.
Concha Jareño dancing Alegrias
When I felt shy as a child
11 p.m. watermelon and black tea with my dad at the sea.
He was so funny, and he was always humming music to himself.
When I was 17 my parents moved back to Kuwait and I would visit them during the summers. I would go on after-midnight swims in the sea with them.
Trying to fit in my first morning in New York City.
When my dad was a boy a man he had never seen in his small neighborhood was oddly dressed as a local tailor, and approached him to ask him about my grandma. She was hosting strangers who were “smartly” dressed. Who were these people that my grandma was hiding? And who was this man looking for them?
100 butterflies in the Kuwaiti sky
People will burn the anguish, anxiety, and gloom of their past year in Santa Fe.
Under the weight of locusts and grief,
people saw him burning his old coat
among the jasmine plants
Patrilineally not fitting in.
I whisper: Leave one wall for the laundry line. Leave a night for singing. I will hang your names wherever you want, so sleep, sleep on the ladder of the sour vine tree.
National Hispanic Cultural Center Book Festival Poster
Traveling between cities and spending a night alone, April was met with unexpected company.
Each year, Noah walks from Albuquerque to the Santuario de Chimayó with his guitarrón.
Albuquerque's October Sky
After a bit of time hiding, I'm ready to face the pressure!
Summer dreams and places I often pass or see
Without notice, April grabbed my hand and ran into the theater.
In a dream I was in Kuwait and coming back to Albuquerque. The only reason stopping me from taking the boat was the night.
Whenever I forget my studio window open, my toughest critics come in and have a party.
My father liked to write poetry.
Alex took me to see Cezanne's studio.
Me + Mohammed after the antiquities museum
Uncertain of what the future holds, Alex moved back to Paris.
My dad really, really wanted me to be strong, independent, and educated. When I feel scared, I can still hear him pushing me through.
When me and Alex met, we went to every art exhibit, movie, and performance we could get to. We ran around all of Paris, and when I felt homesick, she invited me to the sea with her family.
Sometimes, I accidentally wake up at night.
Hadrien likes to write fiction.
We ran into a family of wild boars.
Peeking at my heritage through Dilmun and Greek ruins on an island 10 miles off the shore
I worry and ruminate about a lot of things: like speaking with people I admire.
The costumer at the National Institute of Flamenco Arts making masks during the pandemic.
I loved going to my grandpa's house in Adailiya, and now I love listening to my mom's stories about her youth there.
He took his boat out at night because the water was as still as olive oil. Alone, he was startled by a swimming cow.
Concha Jareño dancing Alegrias
When I felt shy as a child
11 p.m. watermelon and black tea with my dad at the sea.
He was so funny, and he was always humming music to himself.
When I was 17 my parents moved back to Kuwait and I would visit them during the summers. I would go on after-midnight swims in the sea with them.
Trying to fit in my first morning in New York City.
When my dad was a boy a man he had never seen in his small neighborhood was oddly dressed as a local tailor, and approached him to ask him about my grandma. She was hosting strangers who were “smartly” dressed. Who were these people that my grandma was hiding? And who was this man looking for them?
100 butterflies in the Kuwaiti sky
People will burn the anguish, anxiety, and gloom of their past year in Santa Fe.
Under the weight of locusts and grief,
people saw him burning his old coat
among the jasmine plants
Patrilineally not fitting in.
I whisper: Leave one wall for the laundry line. Leave a night for singing. I will hang your names wherever you want, so sleep, sleep on the ladder of the sour vine tree.
National Hispanic Cultural Center Book Festival Poster
Traveling between cities and spending a night alone, April was met with unexpected company.
Each year, Noah walks from Albuquerque to the Santuario de Chimayó with his guitarrón.
Albuquerque's October Sky
After a bit of time hiding, I'm ready to face the pressure!
Summer dreams and places I often pass or see
Without notice, April grabbed my hand and ran into the theater.
In a dream I was in Kuwait and coming back to Albuquerque. The only reason stopping me from taking the boat was the night.
Whenever I forget my studio window open, my toughest critics come in and have a party.
My father liked to write poetry.
Alex took me to see Cezanne's studio.
Me + Mohammed after the antiquities museum
Uncertain of what the future holds, Alex moved back to Paris.
My dad really, really wanted me to be strong, independent, and educated. When I feel scared, I can still hear him pushing me through.
When me and Alex met, we went to every art exhibit, movie, and performance we could get to. We ran around all of Paris, and when I felt homesick, she invited me to the sea with her family.
Sometimes, I accidentally wake up at night.
Hadrien likes to write fiction.
We ran into a family of wild boars.
Peeking at my heritage through Dilmun and Greek ruins on an island 10 miles off the shore
