3 min read

Conduits

A collection of conduits—channelers, passageways, and portals—I hope you’ll consider exploring.
Reflections of trees in a dark purple puddle with small white flowers and red leaves.
Photograph (circa 1999ish) of a light reflection in a puddle, using 35mm infrared film.

••• A Brief Unfolding

Undoubtedly I made the photo at the top of this page during my post-college goth revival phase. I simultaneously cringe at past me's obsession with connecting to the weird, creepy, dark, the something beyond—and thank past me for holding on to this image, and, if I'm honest, I look at it fairly often.

As fine art, the photo isn’t any good. As an artifact of creativity and spirit, it’s perfect. I can tune almost exactly into the time and place, the smell of the little woods where I came upon the puddle with fallen leaves and blooms. I can drop into how it felt to see this image through my camera’s viewfinder, click the shutter, and then hope for the next few days that I’d captured something (just, something) while I waited to get into a darkroom and process the film.

This photo isn’t hanging in a gallery; that was never its destiny. It was meant to remind me again and again, that there are conduits everywhere: in a vivid glimmer, a quiet reflection, a dark shadow. I think I’m now hopeful enough to pay attention to the channel—the conduit—and wise enough to receive what comes through from beyond.


••• You Conduit

I once had a yoga teacher who, mid-asana, would cheerily say, “You are a conduit! Channel the eagle pose, you are the eagle pose. You con-duit!” So silly. I loved it. Clearly I never forgot it. And I promise to keep it light on puns, mostly.

Here is a collection of conduits—channelers, passageways, and portals—I hope you’ll consider exploring.

A Storytelling Conduit

Tell Me a Story founder Hillary Rea is a self-described “social media-free human with a social media-free business.” My admiration for Hillary and her craft manifests in countless ways (see this paragraph’s first sentence). And to name just a couple more: she’s an expert podcaster (check out Five Word Life Story or Rashomon) and she’s seemingly always innovating her practice (Trust Audit anyone??). If you’re longing to tell your story in a meaningful way—your way—I emphatically encourage you to reach out to Hillary.

A Sex Education Conduit

Sex educator, racial/social/gender justice educator, and writer Ericka Hart (@ihartericka) recently launched a workshop called Sex Ed for Parents (and Caretakers of All Kind). As a person who is child-free by choice but has many beloved young people in her life, I was bummed to miss the live workshop. But! now it’s on offer in video form (at a more-than-reasonable cost), so you can watch any time / as many times as you like.

A Skincare and Spirit-care Conduit*

Amari is a plant-based esthetician who offers “facials empowered by nature on a sliding scale.” I’ve had maybe a dozen facials in my life (I’m very fortunate!) but the absolute-best-no-question treatment I’ve ever had was with Amari. My first session with them left me feeling nurtured, nourished, and dreamily relaxed—and for the first time I didn’t leave a facial appointment feeling like I was doing skincare all wrong. *Amari is Philly-based but has launched a mobile 😍 facial service!! So if you’re in or NEAR! Philly, you know what to do.

A Passage of Time Conduit

I recently left a review for abstract artist Leila Simon Hayes’ unbelievably gorgeous 2025 wall calendar, which I’ve now bought three years in a row. I extremely and very much mean this: I only leave reviews for practitioners/products that I adore/cherish/believe in. I challenge you to browse Leila’s beautiful shop without swooning over everything.


A square light pink blob with black lettering; the headline reads: Pipelette.

One! Hundred! Demons!

Lynda Barry’s My Perfect Life and Come Over, Come Over played pivotal roles in my surviving ninth and tenth grades. I read and reread the graphic novels dozens of times and saw my weird, awkward, uneasy self reflected in the pages. Recently a friend asked if I’d read What It Is (also by Barry)—a wondrous source for creativity and curiosity—and set me off on a rediscovery of those earlier books, plus new(er) ones I hadn’t explored. I scooped up What It Is and also One! Hundred! Demons!, which is all about the life moments that haunt us. It’s as perfect as I’d anticipated.