publishing peace

Driving Marv Elders, post-Book of Mormon class Sisters' p-day Goats at the Tolmans' Light Up Inman Don't make me go. Sister Larsen & Kelsey Family. The Rushs The Suns, ft. Sri Racha Shelby & Cam, beauty in a photograph My hermanas At the Walters' farm Melissa Poggio, our best friend Sister Sith Joanne, who didn't want me to see her cry when I left Snow in South Carolina Christmas from Inman Dan & Pat Bubba's Diner John 3:16 Bug Friend Loved. The Life-Changer I've started and restarted writing this five times and I've come to the conclusion that if I were to memorize every word in the English language I still couldn't come up with the right combination to describe these happenings right here. All the above pictures were taken between the dates of September 20th, 2017 and January 23rd, 2018. You'll notice most of...

It took only so long for me to recognize that I felt completely at home with Charleston. But I did, and I'm sure that if I went back, she'd greet me with a sweet southern "Hey, little missus". That's the thing about Charleston; get on its good side, and it'll remember you forever. Much of the history of the city has been erased, at least at surface-level. It's an autumnal sort of place - a blend of something brand new and something left over. There's high fashion salons next to Civil War era homes -- the church graveyards, of which one feels that there is no end, are amalgamations of cracked headstones and shiny new plaques. The people have retained a charm, but have shed a lifestyle. Despite all that has perished here, though, Charleston is alive, and I'd even say it's alive and well. Some things just keep kicking, and no one can say Southerners ain't stubborn. Charleston is not your averag...