Dog days, in full swing.
Summer is stretching itself thin, and yet somehow the weeks keep disappearing. We’re already two-thirds through 2025, which feels impossible and necessary.
On my nightstand: A Carnival of Losses: Notes Nearing Ninety by Donald Hall. A reminder that good books, like good seasons, anchor us even as time rushes past. Life comes at you fast. I hope you’ve also found something nourishing to read as the heat breaks.
Rest has been restorative. I’ve let myself linger, recharge, and sink into quiet. But now, new projects are beginning to hum, and the horizon feels alive with possibility.
I’m eager for fall’s clarity, for the year’s final act, and—if I’m honest—for 2026 to hurry up and meet us.
Until then: soaking in these last weeks, storing up energy, preparing for the sprint to come.
Back to regular programming soon.
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