at the yellow house, I write about cooking and food, culture, gardening, travel, and a smattering of things that strike me as beautiful or unusual.
I’m Sarah. In my “day job” I work in international public health.
Despite the name of this site, I no longer live in a yellow house in DC, but instead in rural Virginia. I still commute into the District more days than not. (The premise of the blog remains the same, though, except now I can see the stars better.)
how I feel about blogging
“When people ask me what kind of nonfiction I write, I say, ‘all kinds’, but really I mean I don’t write any kind at all: I’m trying to dissolve the borders between memoir and journalism and criticism by weaving them together. […] …I’m fascinated by the ways personal experience connects to larger histories, and because I want my writing to matter to the people who read it—people who are, by definition, not me. Which raises one of the crucial questions of autobiographical writing: How can the confession of personal experience create something that resonates beyond itself?”
— Leslie Jamison
“All writers are vain, selfish, and lazy, and at the very bottom of their motives there lies a mystery.”
— George Orwell