My Fairy-Tale Life, by Steven Boone

During the magical and carefree time of my early life, when I was barely seven years old, I remember one spring day playing outdoors...

Every created thing has strength to transform. It is spring, and metamorphosis is occurring. For me, it is time to quiet the voice...

A talented writer invited me to a memoir writing workshop she attends once a week. My friend is my counterpart in spirit. I went for ...

The word portal is at once familiar and mysterious; herein is its charm. When we come to a portal, we are at a threshold. We may be a...

It feels as though I am on auto pilot; that is, going forward but not driving. I am surprised that nothing particularly excites me an...

At the Banteay Srey Butterfly Centre, near Siem Reap, Cambodia I had not intended to leave the United States in mid-September and t...

Heart rending apathy struck me during the week after the memorial for my mother, when I slept in my parents home in Santa Barbara. Ap...

After some searching, a friend and I arrived by car to a hidden oasis in the mountains above the serene southern California town of ...

New Zealand wild beauty Here I am, back in the United States of America for the first time since September 12 of last yea...

Chloris Boone, about 21 years old I hope she does not die while I am in foreign lands. This thought occurred several times bef...

Since September of last year, I have traveled eastward through nineteen time zones. In New Zealand, I am 21 hours ahead of myself wer...