"Dear old world, you are very lovely, and I am glad to be alive in you."
~Anne of Green Gables
A sampling of her work for Design*Sponge:
An East Village Home Where Dreams Are Stored
More samples of her work for Design*Sponge can be found here.
And an excerpt from her book:
The swimming pool is as good a place as any to find ritual cleansing. With each stroke I prayed frantically for forgiveness and for amnesia, mine and the congregation's. At the end of each lane I'd lift up my goggles to drain them of tears. This went on for nearly an hour. Swim. Empty goggles. Swim. Empty goggles. Never has Good Friday felt so much like Good Friday.
That same day, the car was already in the shop. $600 seemed like a small price to pay to erase the memory of my shame. Seeing a dented car day in and day out felt an unbearable burden. The parishioner chose not to report the accident and kept her dent. We never spoke of it after that. It's like the whole thing had never happened.
Only what was said could not be unsaid. Once a secret, or a truth, has been revealed there’s no way of concealing it again. The truth, painful as it may be, has a way of freeing us one small disaster at a time. I would eventually have to come to terms with the unease that haunted me about this life I was living. The lost sacrament I was searching for didn’t offer cleansing or forgiveness but deep, abiding self-compassion. The Holy Grail I had been searching for my entire life would soon be mine. But I’d have to lose my life to find it.