"I was surprised to see the sun rise because the night, like the years, passed in a heartbeat."

"I was surprised to see the sun rise because the night, like the years, passed in a heartbeat."

theresakishkan.com/2026/02/11/2... Alt text: an expanse of blue ocean, blue sky above with white clouds, narrow beach in the foreground

theresakishkan.com/2026/02/11/2... Alt text: an expanse of blue ocean, blue sky above with white clouds, narrow beach in the foreground

An early copy of my new book from Thornapple Press! It's so beautiful

"Was it last night? I think it was the night before. There was a day when I stood at the textile museum looking at Natalie Toledo’s beautiful creations and thought of what it must be like to be born among the bougainvilleas..."

theresakishkan.com/2026/02/07/w... Alt text: carved wooden door with a bronze rabbit knocker

theresakishkan.com/2026/02/07/w... Alt text: carved wooden door with a bronze rabbit knocker

Time to lean heavily on this group of malcontents Working against our country!

"When the poet who’d been my mentor asked, What are you writing?, and I had to confess, Nothing, I wish I’d known that what was actually happening was that I was accumulating an archive."

"When the poet who’d been my mentor asked, What are you writing?, and I had to confess, Nothing, I wish I’d known that what was actually happening was that I was accumulating an archive."

theresakishkan.com/2026/02/04/r... Alt text: a patio surrounded with green growth

theresakishkan.com/2026/02/04/r... Alt text: a patio surrounded with green growth

This morning: thebcreview.ca/2026/02/04/2...

"Never a failure from this reader’s point of view, not as an 18 year old, nor as a woman in her 70s. What happens next. “Like a ribbon of weed I am flung far every time the door opens.” I feel porous enough to let the sentences do whatever they want."

"Never a failure from this reader’s point of view, not as an 18 year old, nor as a woman in her 70s. What happens next. “Like a ribbon of weed I am flung far every time the door opens.” I feel porous enough to let the sentences do whatever they want."

theresakishkan.com/2026/02/02/t... Alt text: a rock on top of an open book, A Writer's Diary, Nineteen Thirty-One

theresakishkan.com/2026/02/02/t... Alt text: a rock on top of an open book, A Writer's Diary, Nineteen Thirty-One

At my desk on a Sunday morning, thinking about how a stack of letters and some sketches became a book, due out in May. How somehow the notes, the scribblings, the late-night thinking, the hesitations, the questions that never resulted in answers (exactly), found a shape, a coherence

At my desk on a Sunday morning, thinking about how a stack of letters and some sketches became a book, due out in May. How somehow the notes, the scribblings, the late-night thinking, the hesitations, the questions that never resulted in answers (exactly), found a shape, a coherence

In Springfield, Ohio, people are preparing in advance of a “large deportation” promised by the president. To all appearances, the city is 2 or 3 days from a federal ethnic cleansing, grounded in a hate campaign organized by the vice-president and American Nazis. snyder.substack.com/p/ethnic-cle...

"Last night I dreamed of Ireland and in a way I am still there, the scent of a donkey, the scent of burning turf, and the sound of corn-crakes creaking in the tall wet grass."

Huh. This entire administration is an Epstein Island afterparty.

"Last night I dreamed of Ireland and in a way I am still there, the scent of a donkey, the scent of burning turf, and the sound of corn-crakes creaking in the tall wet grass."

theresakishkan.com/2026/01/30/l... Alt text: golden brown croissant on a blue plate with a jar of dark chocolate spread beside it

theresakishkan.com/2026/01/30/l... Alt text: golden brown croissant on a blue plate with a jar of dark chocolate spread beside it

Today's sourdough cooling on the counter for today's lunch. Bread is always kind of miraculous.

theresakishkan.com/2026/01/28/r... Alt text: a blurry yellow flower of winter jasmine

Today's sourdough cooling on the counter for today's lunch. Bread is always kind of miraculous.

theresakishkan.com/2026/01/28/r... Alt text: a blurry yellow flower of winter jasmine

"I am appreciating the stash of dry bark I can use to get the fire going first thing, its deep warmth, and how it feels like the oldest comfort on earth."

theresakishkan.com/2026/01/26/m... Alt text: child sitting on sand by a lake at sundown

theresakishkan.com/2026/01/26/m... Alt text: child sitting on sand by a lake at sundown

One thing of beauty on a Sunday morning, this raku pot made by Robin Righton sometime before 1979. #raku #robinrighton #swanlakepottery

"I love that Emily Wilson has, in this tiny moment in a huge text, brought a feminine (even feminist) gloss to the language of the poem. "

theresakishkan.com/2026/01/23/r... Alt text: a close up of the trunk of a Douglas fir tree with green needled branches

theresakishkan.com/2026/01/23/r... Alt text: a close up of the trunk of a Douglas fir tree with green needled branches

It was a remarkable time in my life, I know that now, though at the time it felt, well, normal. Inevitable. I made simple meals, read in the evenings by candlelight (there was no electricity on the island), and wrote pages and pages in my journal. I was as close to knowing myself as I’ve ever been.

It was a remarkable time in my life, I know that now, though at the time it felt, well, normal. Inevitable. I made simple meals, read in the evenings by candlelight (there was no electricity on the island), and wrote pages and pages in my journal. I was as close to knowing myself as I’ve ever been.

theresakishkan.com/2026/01/21/l... Alt text: image of a book cover, a woman's face, with white titling

theresakishkan.com/2026/01/21/l... Alt text: image of a book cover, a woman's face, with white titling

I love the moment when I've snipped out the last of the basting threads, when I've steamed the bindings flat (more or less), and when I hang the finished quilt on the clothesline. Just now, as I pegged it to the line, I heard the foghorn over where Agamemnon Channel meets Malaspina Strait...

theresakishkan.com/2026/01/19/j... Alt text: two stones on a windowstill and a little basket of flaky rock