Our guest contributors are kindred spirits who also have the writing bug. Some are dear friends and some are writers we admire from afar. Their bios are included at the end of their individual articles.
I START OUT plumpa pearthick skinned and hardly ripe but then with each hourthe skinis worn inand my love is worn down I rattle with bonesI open my mouthand it rings like an unkept bell First too softand thentoo loud SARAH currently lives and works in Edmonds, Washington. She would describe herself as painfully shy…
Do you remember how I’d walk near you on a Saturday morning? There was a grey drizzle and puddles growing all around, sometimes even a stream forming from the hillside and out the old black tube. I don’t remember rain jackets, but a grey sweatshirt that would slowly soak across the morning. I’d trace…
Rachel’s email about ending Kindred arrived four days into the new year. She described both the sadness of farewell and “yielding to a natural rhythm; this organic living thing is coming to the end of its life, and we will bear witness to its passing as we have borne witness to its years of flourishing.”…
[introducing the band Solorien] LYRICS (words from the traditional latin mass) – pacem relìnquo vobis pacem mean do vobis qui vivis et regnas in sàecula saeculòrum (I leave you peace, my peace I give you. Where you live for ever and ever) MUSIC Solorien PRODUCTION Tara Ward | vocals Matthew Chism | too many guitars…
the air is heavy like the breath you blew across my ear to tell me that moss grows on the stoplight where I walk in sneakers whose holes allow the water to seep in, past trees dripping with lichen the rainforest isn’t far from the valley between volcanoes, fertile that’s how you see me, I…
I didn’t have to put much effort into healing until my brother Derek died. There had been heartbreak in saying goodbye to my grandparents, my aunt and my uncle. Even after all of the miscarriages, I knew I would survive. I felt, and still feel deep pain from those losses, but until I lost my…
On March 3, 2019, we adopted our daughter, Evelyn. I imagined future conversations I would have with her about her changing body, and froze at the thought of trying to teach her about something my body had not done since I was 15-years-old. For ten years, I desired to heal – I just wanted my…
I cry at the drop of a hat. It’s true. Anyone who knows me can vouch for this. Puppies, families enjoying a sunny day at the park, a toddler’s first skinned knee, a failed fledgling on the sidewalk, impromptu acoustic jams, a tiny tomato trying desperately to reach its full potential under the gray northwest…
the first morning we ate crackers and canned peaches with protein powder as the sun rose past the scrub brush trees and the missile silo doors and I imagined the doors flung wide to spend a dozen Titan AE-1s at our foes, real and imagined, while the boys around me chattered like the apocalypse was…
Winters here aren’t marked by blankets of snow. The gardens never have to be put to bed, but are converted to take advantage of the cool rainy season that allows us to grow the leafy greens, broccoli, garlic, and carrots that tend to wither under our summer sun. Even so, I spend that season dreaming…
Beautifully Human is a song that is a simple push back of anyone who might think that a person is less than because of the color of their skin or anything in their outward expression that might be considered different or other. It is a celebration of the sacredness and value of every human being…
I grew up in a world where I was obligated to forgive. You must or else. The “or else” was never clear. God holding a grudge, me teetering on the edge of hell was a threat. As a child I just knew it was bad and my salvation was at risk. I must forgive and…
I go about my days as I would have done them as if nothing was promised as if nothing would change I’d hate to disrupt the peace of things that would not have me back I’d hate to be given what is not suited for me …
On October 22, 2013, I went into labor unexpectedly at 23 weeks of gestation and gave birth to my firstborn. Leonardo came into our world and 56 minutes later, he left it. When you go into the hospital to deliver a child, you don’t expect to leave without a baby in your arms. That walk…
It’s summer. Bright light pours into our tiny living room and over the L-shaped sectional that we disassembled to fit the space. My husband has recently acquired his grandmother’s navy blue leather recliner, which we have lovingly squeezed into the remaining space. One wall of the living room is occupied nearly completely by a single…
Kindred 