Author Archives: April Lee

sunshine and humanity smiling

when i’m feeling
inadequate and small, and
the world has a good chance
of swallowing me whole

i seek peace, stillness,
and clarity of thought.
with both sunshine and humanity
smiling upon me.
vernazza in october
“what sunshine is to flowers, smiles are to humanity.”
~joseph addison
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on this day, october 11

4 years ago, on october 11, 2013.
in besano and induno olona, italy.

me with my italian cousins
with a few of my italian cousins.
discovering my roots.
grandma's house in italy
the home where my grandma was born and raised.
now a pharmacy.
eric in induno olona
the hotel where we stayed.

after the trembling, dare to hope.

violence. bloodshed.
here we are once again.
tragedy. heartbreak.
incomprehensible to comprehend.

i tremble.

so much pain. catalonia, france, the united states.
the vegas shooting far from me, yet at least six
had come from places that i’ve called home.
two of the six are now two of the 58, gone forever.

one word that moves mountains.

apuan alps mist

do you crave an existence in a more expansive world?
do you wish to create a magical life for yourself?


do you have a secret desire, a yearning, a hunger?
for a stronger voice, for adventurous travel, for better relationships?

losing the citrusy scent

i no longer am able to take pleasure in
the citrusy scent of a freshly cut orange,
the perfumed air from a bouquet of roses,
the sweet powdery smell of a baby’s soft skin.

we live our lives through our senses,
and i’ve lost my sense of smell.

when it’s all been said before

what is there to say,
when it’s all been said before?

maybe just that i am here,
in a new place, learning to navigate.
but dealing with similar struggles,
and with similar joys to celebrate.

we’re all different, it is true,
with our unique habits and notions.

just plain tough

this is a difficult post to write. it’s always hard admitting to moments of raw weakness.

my recent trip to the states brought a lot of things to light, including things i perhaps wasn’t ready or willing to bring out of the darkness.

my last kisses

i grew up in kellogg, idaho, a small mining town in the northern panhandle of the state. i moved away when i was 18 years old, visiting now and then over the next many years. in the spring of 2013, i moved back to my hometown until my relocation to italy last october.

my perfect zone

my shadow

decisions, decisions.
we are always making decisions.

i am struck by a particular dichotomy at the moment.

convenience and familiarity,
accompanied by that passive stagnation i so consciously avoid.

vs. frustration and bewilderment,
which often creates that dynamic growth i crave.

perceptions of reentry

our expectations are not always our reality, are they? after only 10 months away, i wasn’t expecting to experience much difference upon reentry. but many factors have beenĀ at play in the past few days, combining to create a strangeness i can’t really define as anything other than reverse culture shock:

  • missed flights and jet lag
  • new friends, gained through airport hassles
  • one night in london, a whirlwind tour
  • “collateral beauty,” a film that received no accolades but touched me deeply
  • my dad’s prepared gift from italy, two vacuum-packed salamis, confiscated by u.s.