ABOUT ME
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.
Recent Posts
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Thoughts on Transition
Dear friends, It has been a little while since I’ve written a blog post. Since school started, life seems to course along at a rapid pace, muddling time in its path. In the face of this (still new) change, I’ve found it difficult to translate my disjointed thoughts into words, repelling me from the keyboard. And,…
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A Sonnet: Sunless Shade
Hello friends, I hope you have been well. Please forgive my relative silence — I’ve been adjusting to a new school system so I haven’t had the time or inspiration to write of late. However, I did want to share with you some exciting news. I received an award in the Youth category of the…
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Notes from People Watching
As I gazed out my car window one summer evening this week, I was confronted with how full the world is of activity, of movement. I passed little houses and claustrophobic apartments, sheltering the heads of people unknown. I glimpsed men and women walking, sweeping, talking, reading, engaging in quiet routines. Windows radiated with warm…
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Bidding Farewell
How does one say goodbye well? As I prepare to move to another city (an island, to be specific) and another school, this question courses across my mind. Even after years of moving from dwelling to dwelling, I am still in the process of finding the answer. Places and houses — physical entities — are…
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Discourse on Clouds
I remember cloud-watching as a six-year-old — on the field in front of the school I went to. I recall lying on my back, gazing at the movement of the clouds. Wondering in awe at their rapid motion, their transience of form. They spiraled above me, coursing beyond my view. To a certain extent, I think…
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Kairos Time
It was only recently that I fully cognized what a sunrise entailed. The sun’s fingers slipped through my window, dappling my wall with dim light. At their sight, I felt an odd sensation of sorrow. Were not these the same rays that had woken me every morning for what felt like centuries? My mind stretched…
Glimpse beauty
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