Hungover, shirtless, wishing I would evaporate. I sat in the backyard on a chair, the California sun laying on me like a sheet. That sky,...

My friend Brian and I drove from Sacramento to Oakland to the Fox Theater to see DJ-musician Girl Talk, whose mash-ups...

This morning I don’t know what I’m even mourning.

Even the bus might have served as a warning. I don’t ride buses, and this was a rattletrap single-decker with flickery lighting...

The alarm clock buzzer sounded at 6 am, but I had already been awake for the past two hours. Not bad, I thought..

On February 25th, 2011, my journal—kept diligently in composition books for six years—was no longer a comfort to me.

Every visit back to India now became an exercise, carefully planned...

For me, February 18, 2011, is a time of not yets. In five months I'll be engaged, and in fourteen I'll be married. But not yet.

Once inside, I immediately take off my wool coat. This coffee shop is always bursting with bodies hunched around tiny round tables with...

Ten years ago, you’d have found me in my Charlottesville art studio, nestled within a pink building memorialized by Dave Matthews...