A Psychedelic Throb Sometimes the sunlight filters through the plate glass windows at Target in a way that feels like church. June 2, 2024
Someday We Will Conjure New Gods to Console Us We stood by the window and watched the howling dark, even though this isn’t what you should do in a tornado. May 1, 2024
Hallucinations and Routines There will always be demands and obligations, but they do not need me before eleven o’clock. January 24, 2024
Prophets The Joshua tree was named by Mormons in the 1850s, who thought they saw their prophet pointing to the promised land. September 4, 2023
Someday We Will Invent Kinder Gods and New Miracles Yesterday in twenty-first-century America, I idled behind a jeep with an InfoWars license plate. October 9, 2022
A Fleeting Shape Glimpsed From the Corner of the Eye My first memory of God: I was five or six years old and feverishly rubbing a white crayon into a dark blue piece of construction paper. May 4, 2022
Ecce Homo Maybe it's limbic and hardwired, this desire to see the divine rather than hear or touch. October 15, 2021
Grace This morning in the park, I sat across from a woman who was talking to the pigeons gathered around her feet. June 25, 2020
Scenes from America’s Taj Mahal Notes from an accidental visit to a temple in West Virginia. January 28, 2018