Preserving Us
History keeps dates. Facts. The birth, the border crossed, the property bought or sold, the diagnosis, the death. It has never kept…
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Clarity Before Curation
The cursor blinks at the end of a sentence. It sits there on the white screen as you stare at what you…
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Midlife Is Not a Footnote
Her father died of a heart attack at forty-four. She was seven. Nobody sat her down and told her this was now…
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Already an Archivist
“It’s just a hobby.” She utters the word by default. Someone notices the paintings stacked in the corner, the photographs pinned to…
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Nothing to Speak Of: What we learn to minimise
Hot stones. That is the only way I can think to describe it. A burning that settles at the base of your…
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For No One: Preserving a Life Without Performance
The camera comes out even before the feeling does. Before grief has settled into the body, it is already a caption. Before…
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Erosion: On slipping away
She cannot remember the last time she laughed like that. The kind of laughter that starts somewhere you can’t control and takes…
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Before She Fades
She is still here. You can find her if you search. The woman you were six months ago, a year ago, before…
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Unremarkable: On why ordinary women’s lives belong in the record
The notebook on her bedside table wasn’t fancy and leather-bound. It was a composition book. The kind you buy at a drugstore….
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Already an Archive: On what belongs in the record
There is a box somewhere in most women’s lives. Sometimes it’s an actual cardboard box, pushed to the back of a closet,…
