Up until relatively recently, this blog had a title, and the title was Scribal Tattoo. I wasn't particularly attached to the name, which is a shallow pun on "tribal tattoo": I'm the scribe, obviously, and while I'm not more tattooed than your average writer, my identity as a tattooed person goes all the way back… Continue reading Tattoos for English Majors
Category: Personal Narrative
In which I try to process my feelings through books
Little Women One Monday morning in January, I was home from work for the bank holiday. I had been dragging my feet on starting the first assignments for my online course in climate science. Reluctantly, I started playing the lectures as I boiled beans for chili, darting to my computer to pause the video and… Continue reading In which I try to process my feelings through books
My life as an NPC
For the last six weeks, my life has become very local. I work from home. I relax at home. I follow along with virtual dance classes using a kitchen chair as a barre. I schedule virtual hangouts with friends and carry my computer around so I can sit on the patio while it's light out… Continue reading My life as an NPC
A small grief on the subject of the body
I got back from a conference in New York late one Wednesday night. I left my bag mostly packed, knowing I'd be back on a train that Friday afternoon to visit friends in New Jersey. On Thursday night I went to see a murder mystery movie; afterward, at my place, my partner made us drinks… Continue reading A small grief on the subject of the body
A small grief on the subject of home
I take a bus to the city where my mother was born to sit with my aunt on her deathbed. Before we go to her, my older cousins drive me to the family house to drop off my single carry-on and maybe eat. “I’m just going to get a glass of water,” I say. “Rinse… Continue reading A small grief on the subject of home
A small grief on the subject of belonging
My aunt passed away this fall--on Thanksgiving Day, actually. It was both sudden and not: she had been sick and struggling for some time and had elected to transition into hospice care, but no one expected to lose her that day, that week. Unlike the rest of us, my aunt was slight in stature, short… Continue reading A small grief on the subject of belonging
Sara Davis 