Hey, kindred souls! I’m Abigail. I am an old soul with a fondness for hefty tomes and cinnamon tea. I write on topics such as the value of art, the struggles of being human, and the ways to sight beauty in a torn world.
May you find words of light and space to ponder in this haven of hope.
We seem to have forgotten how to be children. How to approach life with a sense of play. I do not mean recklessness but wonder. To look, actually look, at the world around us. And, as my toddler cousin has shown me, find gaps in the manholes and faces in the puddles. I was reminded of…
Recently, I learned a new piece of vocabulary: “octogenarian.” According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, it refers to “a person whose age is in the eighties.” The word encapsulates how I often feel internally. Although, physically, I am a young lady, I have always been an old soul at heart. Some may find this idea odd…
On a crisp summer evening a few days ago, I attended the Schuman Symphony No. 4 concert in Grant Park, Chicago. The cool wind brushed my face as I sat down on a rickety red chair in the free seats section. The stainless steel exterior of the Jay Pritzker Pavilion glimmered before me, intricate in…
“Why are you so quiet?” This reoccurring question has haunted me my entire life and will, I imagine, continue to haunt me. As many of you may know or have come to understand, I am an introvert. I prefer listening to speech, small huddles or one-on-one conversations to large groups, renewing my energy in solitude…
Dear friends, How are you faring? Please forgive my silence recently. Due to fatigue and artistic stagnancy, listening to music has felt more cathartic than blogging in the past two months. Regarding academics, I’ve settled into the rhythms, the pace of classes and after-school routines, of the second semester. Although the heaviness of workload oscillates, I have (relatively) adjusted to…
Merry Christmas, friends!One of my favorite Christmas carols is “In the Bleak Midwinter.” I cherish its poetic form, its earnest melody, and the lyrics of sincerity and adoration. As I sang the song one late evening, with the glow of a candle dancing on my face, I felt struck by the final stanza:: “What can…