Eirinie Carson

1 week ago | petaluma360.com | Eirinie Carson

It is spring break. Because my husband hates me and wants me to be miserable*, we still don't have a pool. Instead, I have filled the tub and plopped my children in it. They are still small enough that they can pretend they are swimming. They float about, practicing growling at each other like two sodden wolf pups. I lie flat on my bed, listening. I've been doing a lot of stillness lately, a lot of listening.

1 month ago | petaluma360.com | Eirinie Carson

Last spring I spent two weeks on residence at the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts, a beautiful residency that happens to be on the site of a former plantation. At that time, with the presidential election looming large in my mind – but also in the Trump signs I saw along the freeways of Virginia – I wrote this short essay about the colliding of history, and what it means to hold the past as we walk into the future.

1 month ago | pressdemocrat.com | Eirinie Carson

Last spring I spent two weeks on residence at the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts, a beautiful residency that happens to be on the site of a former plantation. At that time, with the presidential election looming large in my mind – but also in the Trump signs I saw along the freeways of Virginia – I wrote this short essay about the colliding of history, and what it means to hold the past as we walk into the future.

1 month ago | petaluma360.com | Eirinie Carson

My family are in Mt. Shasta, enjoying the snow. Our clothes are everywhere in the little cabin we have rented. I’ve always been a terrible packer. Each time I pack a bag, I think to myself, “This time. This time it'll be different. This time I'll count the days I'm gone and lay my underwear out in colored, frilly blocks on my bed, really plan out my outfits.