Photo by Hide Obara on Unsplash

Woman and Child with bow at archery target practice
Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

The best gift you could ever give your daughter is the confidence to overcome any obstacle that threatens to get in her way of happiness. If you’re one of those dads making cameo appearances with stuffed animals at tea parties or you never miss a softball practice, it’s safe to say you’re already building that trait within her.

Archery, without a doubt, is one of the best ways to continue building a relationship while fostering that confidence in your tenacious little lady. It’s one of the fastest-growing sports in the United States and has taken on a symbol of women's…

Blue and black street art that reads “don’t think don’t ask pay tax vote for us”
Photo by Paweł Czerwiński on Unsplash

My internal monologue on the debate for Illinois’ up and coming tax amendment came to a screeching, throat curdling outcry of annoyance after receiving a piece of direct mail. The patriotic cardstock displayed a simple three-step instruction on how to send in my ballot. But it didn’t lack trickery in its own right. As someone with a background in persuasive writing, I know it is tailored to deceive many. Hence my audible clamor in the mailroom — mask on, of course.

Since the current administration inflamed anxiety into the hearts of millions about voting in this years’ election, I’d say…

Restaurant with ambient lighting
Photo by Dean Sun on Unsplash

“What do you want us to do when someone’s being fucking racist?” Micah asked.

But to whom, I couldn’t tell. Micah is in pre-shift. He’s trim in blue frame glasses. And his tone reflects the charisma of an opening server, hungover from the trope of last night’s encounters. He’s been here for hours, attentive to a meeting that should have wrapped ten minutes ago. The air is dense from smoked meat. It warms my cheeks as I clock in, sufficing as my only welcome.

Most nights, I move with frightening anticipation. It’s like a neurological phenomenon that allows me to…

Hands holding bundle of grapes
Photo by Maja Petric on Unsplash

At the height of Wine industry’s synthetic tyranny, one man sought out in pursuit of juice, unencumbered by the chemical enhancements of the 21st century. A failed musician from California explored outmoded and esoteric regions of Europe. He discovered ancient vines planted in untouched soils, preserved by the hands of father and son winemakers who hadn’t yet lost their souls. He dined at their tables and traversed their dark cellars. He was a purest on an “anti-filtering crusade” determined to familiarize American palates to the nuances of terroir.

His name is Kermit Lynch.

American author and wine merchant Kermit Lynch

Man plays violin on street corner
Photo by William Recinos on Unsplash

I’ve been frustratingly moody lately.

This afternoon I took the scenic walk around my apartment, avoiding the sketchy typicity of my alley. I didn’t have much of a view anyway, now that I think about it. The brick buildings appeared blanketed under a levitating blur of heat. And the midday exposure posed a challenge for my eyesight all the same. Blind and burning, I was sure the only logic for my casual excursion was the distant sound of a violin.

The result of its bow strike seemed to ignite my imagination, a dreary vibration that reeled me into a warm…

Laura Flowers

Creative copywriter and content strategist with a soft spot for authentic consumer goods and a surging admiration for outdoor recreation.

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