Columns

By Mac Pomeroy Lately, my life feels like every day is the exact same. Get up, go to class, eat, write, crochet. Your world lacks much variety when you spend every second of it within the four green walls of your bedroom. Well, my bedroom, I don’t know what color…

By Mac Pomeroy As an English major, I often find myself writing for hours at a time. Stories, essays, articles — I have gotten used to the feeling of my fingers hitting the keyboard, the keys clacking as they put down my thoughts. This is not the difficult part —…

By Mac Pomeroy I look down toward the hook and yarn in my hands. Currently, it is nothing impressive, nothing more than materials. I made the first knot and slipped it on the hook, and began to make a chain. I have had many hobbies in my life, such as…

By Mac Pomeroy It was the weekend after the election. My sister, her partner and I had just gone to Boardman and done some light shopping and were heading back home. Then, suddenly, we saw a dog on the side of the road. Of course, there are tons of dogs…