Right now, I’m sitting in my window sill watching the first snow of the season cascade down from the sky. It’s gathering on the steps of my fire escape, forming little white landscapes with peaks and valleys big enough only for Whos and Grinches, and I’m as content as I’ve ever been. My dog is …
I spent the past week on the other side of the world in Singapore. It’s not a figure of speech—"the other side of the world”—I was actually on the inverse point of the planet from my life in New York City; the furthest I’ve ever been from home. In many ways, I’m still the little …
When I was little, going to my grandma's house actually felt like the song; Over the river and through the woods. My paternal grandparents lived about an hour north of us and on holidays, we made the drive up to visit them. There’s something dreamlike about driving off to grandma’s house to stay for a …
Each summer, our youth group joined other churches from our Super-Christian North Texas district for a week of camp that took place at a Pentecostally-sanctioned camp ground. It was a week of field-day games, non-coed swimming, sexually-repressed flirting with other sexually-repressed teenagers and no less than two hellfire and brimstone services each day. None of …
I had a fairly normal suburban American childhood. My dad worked in downtown Dallas which felt like a wondrous Oz—oversized and industrial with a skyscraper lit in neon green light presiding over the cityscape—but back in our neighborhood, life felt more simple. Not quite Munchkinland, but simple. Summers in the suburbs were speckled with block …
Ryan Brinson 