Heather is an essayist, editor, CMO, mommy, and wife seeking stillness while in a state
of nearly constant motion. She lives, walks, and eats in the greatest city in the world: Chicago.
I put up the Christmas tree on November 30th this year, couldn’t wait. Something about the way the air changed, the early dark, the heaviness I’d been carrying around like a second coat... I needed twinkle lights and garland now, not in two weeks, not after the rush of shopping or the wrapping of deadlines. I needed to believe I could manufacture cheer from muscle memory.
Read MoreFor many years, we’ve traveled for the Thanksgiving holiday and had the honor of being guests at my cousin’s table for the big event. When we arrive in Ohio, my family makes a complicated day look effortless. The turkey is perfect, as are the mashed potatoes. Gravy is carefully prepared, and there are always these great pecan rolls from a local bakery that we try to snatch before we actually sit down to eat. The table looks lovely, and it’s so special. Like I said, they make it look easy.
Read MoreHere’s how I always pictured it:
I’m downtown, meeting someone for lunch or something at the Art Institute, and since I arrived early, I duck into a coffee shop for a little treat. As I reach for the door, it opens, and there you are. You’re holding a cup with a tea bag hanging out the top, and I remember, not for the first time, my disbelief that you never liked coffee. But all the same, there you are.
A perfect skewer. A warm loaf of bread shared at twilight. A family-favorite cheese ball in a vintage bowl. The kinds of things that never go out of style.
Read MoreWhat I have now isn’t the same kind of freedom I had in my twenties, but it’s a richer one, forged by love, loss, endurance, and a deeper knowing of what it costs to make space for yourself.
Read MoreI mark time by what’s happening in our backyard—the flowers in bloom, the worn patch of grass where my son kicks his soccer ball, the sounds of summer carried through an open window. Some seasons feel slower than others, quieter in ways I don’t always expect.
Read MoreNapoleon said, “An army marches on its stomach,” and so do I. My love of food has always shaped how (and why) I travel. From a clay cazuela in Spain to a copper pot from Paris, I collect kitchen souvenirs that bring the world back home, one meal at a time.
Read MoreThirteen is an age of almosts. Almost grown, almost ready, almost sure. And parenting a thirteen-year-old? It’s like helping someone pack for a journey you can’t take with them.
Read MoreChicago in early spring is a study in contrasts—soggy fields, gray skies, and kids playing soccer in thirty-degree weather, all while daffodils push through cold soil and robins reappear in backyards. A meditation on layered clothing, algorithmic daydreams, and the promise of sleeveless days just beyond the horizon.
Read MoreWriting is a search for truth—a challenge that every writer faces. While technology has introduced tools like spellcheck and AI, the heart of creativity remains deeply human. In this piece, I explore my experience using a custom-trained AI as a creative partner, not a replacement.robot
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