Sara Hendren

A quarter century after 9/11 tomorrow.

Day one of a class I’ve been dreaming of for several years!

my daughter is dining hall maxxing in her freshman year

At the Royal School of Needlework, conservators restore a reredos.

This is another one of those weeks with my teenage son where I can hardly keep up with the whiplash.

I am taking our youngest son, 16, with me on a work trip to London later this fall.

As promised, details about painter Bradford Johnson’s show at Claire Carino Contemporary.

We dropped off our girl ten days ago.

PSA if, like me, you’re wanting to make food for a friend doing chemo, grieving, welcoming a new baby, etc: breakfast can be a sleeper hit.

Benjamin Riley continues to provide a great service for those of us in education.

Brad Johnson’s show at Claire Carino Contemporary opens in September.

Among the things I wrote in a letter I’ll leave with my daughter after we move her into her dorm for freshman year tomorrow: A good classroom contains a mix of truth-seeking and social cohesion.

Got to do a studio visit with Mark Thomas Gibson while we were at a residency together last month.

I got through a scary-for-me medical test this morning thanks to my husband Brian.

I enjoyed the first half, so far, of The Correspondent on audiobook for a lengthy road trip.

Frank Kermode’s The Genesis of Secrecy is the book form of his Norton Lectures in 1977-78.

[Corrected link] Now this is a great commencement speech.

thirty one years ❤️

my daughter’s further lino print adventures

I will never tire of conversion stories in all their many forms, and this from @mbattles is especially memorable: You know how it’s been for me since last June, when I stumbled into a stretch of the Damascus Road that runs secret along the Victoria Line of

Currently reading: Dust and Light: On the Art of Fact in Fiction by Andrea Barrett 📚

Andrea Barrett, from Dust and Light: Here’s a passage from a letter Anton Chekhov wrote on December 9, 1890, to his friend Alexi Suvorin, describing his journey back from Sakhalin: When we left Hong Kong the ship began to roll.

Currently reading: A Long Game by Elizabeth McCracken 📚 Inhaled this.

Mary Ellen Mitchell: They may not know, but I should tell them, that Carol delivers me breakfast every Monday morning and then cleans the shelter; Amber prays for me whenever she passes MaryEllen street, which she does a lot, because it intersects with the

16 yr old son musing after dinner: If LOTR didn’t exist, I think I’d actually be a different person?