This is a home for essays on memory, absence, diaspora, and the unruly art of writing. I’m interested in what happens when we begin without knowing where we’re going — when stories resist neat endings and essays become a way of thinking aloud, tracing what can’t always be named.

Each week, I write about the things that linger: a voice from childhood, a song heard half a lifetime ago, the ache of distance, the strangeness of belonging to multiple places and none at all. I’m drawn to the spaces between — between languages, between certainty and doubt, between the personal and the collective.

This newsletter isn’t a lecture or a list of lessons. It is a conversation. An attempt to map what’s unmappable, to make visible the process of meaning-making in essays, in culture, in life. You’ll find reflections on the craft of creative nonfiction, fragments of memoir, meditations on literature, and the occasional note about what it means to write from elsewhere. Other times, I will write about books, or movies, or whatever it is happening around us in this uncertain times.

If you’re someone who cares about language, memory, diasporic inheritance, and the essays that refuse to stay tidy — welcome.

We will begin with two essays for the price of nothing in your inbox every week. Later we will morph into something else. But until then, welcome again.