The Harem in Me

I’ve been reading Elif Shafak’s memoir Black Milk: on Writing and Motherhood recently. The writer talks of the “harem of women inside her”, she calls them her Choir of Discordant Voices, her Thumbelinas, her finger-women. These women inside her are both her guides and her critiques; they disagree on everything and argue constantly, there’s noContinue reading “The Harem in Me”

short thoughts: on beginnings and endings

“Crucial to finding the way is this: there is no beginning or end.” I consider these words as I try to trace our journey, from the first awkward introduction to now. I’m trying to figure out how we got here, how every soul baring conversation, every round of banter, every unexpected adventure, every conflict ofContinue reading “short thoughts: on beginnings and endings”