hi, it’s elinor. maybe i'm talking to myself here. maybe i'm talking to you. maybe the illusion of a hard line between us doesn't really matter all that much.

being in the world. comfort and discomfort. reality and unreality. quotidian whatnot. things ordinary and non-ordinary. plants, animals, fungi, soil, water, sky. you will find all of it here in these missives, most likely, transmitted through neuron firing, button pressing, electron flow, and the material and behavioral capabilities instilled by billions of years of evolution combined with fortuitous circumstances.

i'm a domestic (u.s.), same-race adoptee, baby-scoop era. it turns out that being adopted is not a one-time event, but a lifelong experience. when i write about adoption and the lived experience of it - which may be often - expect me to write explicitly from that perspective. if you're embedded in the the mainstream adoption narrative, some of what i share may be uncomfortable. i invite you to approach it all with a curious, open mind.