When I have to travel… I’m uncomfortable, discombobulated, homesick. But since I do have to travel about four times a year, I want to teach myself how to do it with less discomfort.
Tell Me About Despair
One of the poems that means most to me is Mary Oliver’s “Wild Geese.” I remember when I first read it, years ago, I felt moved and inspired—and then wondered, “How does she dare?” The message remains revolutionary.
The Death of Pip
Pip, my shelter dog pitbull mix, died peacefully on Saturday after nine years of a beautiful life, hiking, enjoying the dog park, going with me on all kinds of adventures.
Mary Oliver Is Dead
Her gift seems simple and yet it is neither simple nor common but the “confiding intimacy” of her great poems.
The Ruts Remain
Bells are ringing all over Santa Fe and the Plaza is blindingly bright with tree-strung lights…
After Twenty-Five Years: Reflecting on the Origins of the Sallie Bingham Archive for Women’s Papers
It is not only the personal that our papers record but the way the personal becomes political, even for women who may never recognize the connection.