Hey, friend. When I launched Wandering Home over two years ago on February 7th, 2022, this newsletter was my way of committing myself to writing and publishing consistently. I’d been banned from Instagram, losing years of writing and posts. I needed a space where I had the agency to write lengthy essays and letters that could be around for as long as I wanted, without the limitations, algorithms, and distractions of social media. Wandering Home would be the place I’d post as often as I was able in order to share my words, develop my craft and voice, and perhaps build up some readership that would become a new community.
106+ weeks, 70+ posts, and a thousand cups of coffee later: Wandering Home is again one of my highlights of the past year. I’m so grateful for this circle of readers who encourage me to keep writing, keep sharing, keep dreaming, keep wandering home.
To honor our second year, I’m sharing some favorite posts before I share exciting news about what’s ahead for this newsletter.
Most popular posts (reader favorites.)
Not to say these weren’t fun or important to write, but the proof is in the pudding these resonated with you. This list is based on number of views, shares, and comments of posts from the past year. It is in top post order.
Free Palestine. Thoughts on humanity, nuance, and collective liberation from early on in the Gaza Genocide.
Tracing history: before October 6, 2023. A historical timeline covering the Nakba.
Get on the plane. A letter about the shadow side of wandering.
Tracing history: since October 7, 2023. A timeline of current events from the Gaza Genocide.
Free yourself. About the violent supremacy we must undo.
Flipping tables. My church experience of the impact of solidarity with the Palestinian people.
My favorite posts (writer favorites.)
These are the posts I enjoyed or appreciated writing most, either because of the subject, the courage it took to hit “Send”, or just how much I was grateful having written it. This list is unique from the “most popular” list, although most of the above fall into my favorites category as well. It’s ordered from most recent to oldest.
Viva Palestina Libre. On my week in Mexico City.
Tender spots: a poem. On 100 days of genocide and staying awake.
Without magic. Reflections on art & peacemaking that gets our hands dirty.
Saudade. About outrunning bulls in the Azores and longing for home.
Field notes: Trip highlights. Debriefing my volunteer trip to Lebanon and Jordan.
On the outside. How a fundraiser reshaped my thinking on community support.
Cups of Gold: a poem. A poem about Arab hospitality.
Still wandering.
More than two years ago, I named this experiment Wandering Home because while the journey of being human takes us many places, the beauty and connection we find together along the way of our wandering through is what truly makes the journey home. I didn’t know exactly what I’d be writing about or what form it would take, but as an artist, I knew to trust the process. I knew the stories and the themes would emerge with time and intention. I’d knew I’d recognize my voice when I heard it.
(I’ve linked to some past posts within the text, so tap around to read the archives!)
I heard it when I wrote last year about turning 33. And when I returned from my Middle East trip and used art as a weapon and walked on holy ground. And when I wrote poetry about making art in hard places. And when I wrote about paradoxical questions while on vacation. And when my dog died. And when I said Free Palestine and Free Yourself and what Palestinian solidarity costs. When I made timelines before and after October 7th and was very clear “the war” didn’t start then and why it won’t end with a ceasefire.
I heard it when I wrote the first year of WH about vulnerability and horsepacking. And communion in Italy. And my aging dog. And Easter traditions. And art as resistance. And Crushing Walls. And chronic pain. And thoughts on home. And balance and rest. And musician Jon Batiste. And the band Bright Eyes. And Ukraine and war. And design’s life lessons and anti-racism.
I’m still asking “why not?” – that’s one of my favorite questions (second only to “wanna grab coffee?”) It’s how I started my design business. It’s also how I became a humanitarian photographer. It’s how I decided to go back to the Middle East a third time. It’s how I decided to write a memoir.
Today I’m proud that this is the space I set out to make and sought to build when I planted this seed in the darkness of winter in February. And when it wasn’t, I’m proud of the ways I learned how to I make it better as I went along. I found my voice and my people continue to find me here. What a gift.
I hope you’ll take a moment to reread your favorites linked in this post, and give them a share on social media. You can highlight a favorite line or passage, right click (or long tap if you’re on mobile) to share a quote or line as a graphic to social media, or a Note within Substack. Sharing and commenting are great ways to support my work and help Wandering Home find its way to those who will appreciate it most!
Did you know you can also “like” your favorite posts and “save” them on Substack? Look for the heart and bookmark icons. These little interactions make sure readers keep seeing the best Wandering Home posts. If you aren’t subscribed to get these posts as emails in your inbox, do that so you don’t miss a thing.
Thanks for everything. For subscribing to my newsletter, for participating in community conversations, for sharing my work on social media or with your friends, for leaving comments and restacks, for buying my art, for generously supporting the causes that I feature here, and for the ways that we've connected. I’m truly grateful!
(And if you are an email subscriber and caught that new header graphic and blurb about the membership feature I’ve set up on Buy Me a Coffee, I’ll say more on that real soon. I'm launching something super exciting on Wednesday, my birthday! I’ll share more about what will equip the next leg of this newsletter and more creative endeavours, but in the meantime, it’s active and open for paid subscriptions. Check it out.)
See you when I'm older,