HeyJaredWriter In Motion
One writer's attempt to better understand the chaos and the calm as I move from place to place.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 7
- Latest publication
- Sep 27, 2026
- Audience
- Checking…
- Earliest in this view
- Jul 7, 2026
Latest issues
A Letter From The Ocean (opens the original)
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The first species that comes up is known as a Billy Button flower (Craspedia) from the daisy family, but the stems don’t branch like these ones do, and the bright yellow flowers are about the size of a bottle cap, too large at the tips. My mom knew all the names of the flowers. I wish I could just ask her. The next query suggests Mediterranean Strawflower (Helichrysum stoechas), or Lavender Cotton (Santolina chamaecyparissus), both of which resemble a cousin of the dandelion more than the flower
We Must Believe It’s True (opens the original)
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Tell me where my eyelash needs to be, and you will find a toe perfectly pointed in plantar flexion. Next, I will recount to you what it is like to be within a swarm of swirling silken birds, on a dimly lit stage, in shadowy hues of burgundy and melon. An unbroken undulation of measured movements, limbs stretched taut like a bracing bow. The subsequent step is the winding of an invisible thread, in and out of the space between bodies, bindings sculpting skin, compressing muscle, a soundless tremo
Concurrents (opens the original)
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Chalky plums, one bite into brilliant fleshy chartreuse, the pit already unsealing from its edges, it drops onto the rough, dry ground. The last of the blackberries, buckling on their own brambles, drupelets burgeoning, staining fingers, shirts, the shiny plastic of a baby doll’s head.This morning, I watered a friend’s tomato plants, which, they warned me, don’t like water on their leaves so just [to water] at the base. I give a gentle tug to a few of the orange and red fruits, the sun glancing
Fragments: Part VII (opens the original)
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There are cerulean blue flecks in my coffee, but it tastes no different — perhaps I am simply caffeine starved. Small hands strip away the wrapper from the wax of the crayon at odd rhythms, offering me each scrap, placing them callously into my palm. I hold these offerings lightly, staring down at the pieces of dusky blue swirling in the dregs of my coffee. I make the willing choice to drink them down. Subscribe now <a href="https://milaphelpsfriedl.substack.com/p/fr
Light-Bringer (opens the original)
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There are two of us. And then, there are three. The third one brought a flashlight, appearing in a band of artificial glow, casting long shadows and unmasking the precarious choice of the previous two to try side stepping like crabs down the cliffside stairs in close to total darkness. What are your names? She asks. We fall into step, following the sound of the ocean crashing on the pebbled floor of the nearby cove. We respond and learn that hers is Lily1. All three of us stand, ankle deep in fr
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