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The Price of Grace: Why the Sacred Isn’t Free

A hand beaded rosary lain out over abalone shell and patterned cloth.

The first thing anyone notices about a handmade rosary is never the price. It’s the weight.Glass, stone, metal—each bead has a small gravity, each knot holds a decision, each decade learns to sit in the palm like an animal that trusts you. I made one on the Solemnity of the Most Sacred Heart, and as … Read more

The Violence of the Gift Economy

money paper and bills on white surface

There’s a certain kind of moral cleanliness people want to feel these days.They want to be good consumers, conscious supporters, enlightened participants in a system they claim to despise but cannot live without. They buy from small businesses, repost infographics about mutual aid, share “support artists!” memes, and talk wistfully about community economies—the imagined utopias … Read more

Art Isn’t Customer Service

woman stressed at work

Rethinking the transactional expectations we’ve built around creativity The Smile Policy I spent fourteen years behind counters, headsets, and glowing screens where the smile policy was as binding as the dress code. You learn the choreography early: the greeting that catches before it lands, the apology you deliver whether or not anything is your fault, … Read more

The Ones Who Fall Through Every Net

man in white shirt using macbook pro

Every brochure swears there’s help if you need it. Every workplace poster smiles beside a hotline. Every government site has a dropdown labeled Emergency Supports. The language is clean, confidence-colored. Words like accessible, inclusive, no wrong door. If you believed the posters, you’d think the country was a long, soft net strung beneath the high wire of ordinary life. … Read more

Where You Belong

clean coffee shop

He said it with the offhand confidence of someone who has never had to ask permission to take up space. “You’re where you belong — making my coffee.” The sentence slid across the counter like a coin: tossed without thought, bright enough to catch the light, already sticky with fingerprints. I smiled. I handed over the cup. … Read more

Everyone Left and No One Said Goodbye

person s hand touching wall

There’s a different kind of silence on the internet now. Not peace — vacancy. You can feel it in the empty timelines, the vanished conversations, the shop links that used to hum with life but now lead nowhere. It’s not just quiet; it’s abandonment. It’s the hollow ache of realizing that everyone you once built … Read more

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