Calista Marchand-Nazzaro
Bio
Always learning and always evolving. I’m a creative, an idea person, a thinker, a dreamer, and working on being a doer. Many interests. Varied content. Food. Sustainability. Comedy. Poetry. Music.
Stories (90/0)
Ecoverklempt
I turn on my laptop and immediately open my browser. I see the headlines because my eyes can't help but look at them. The first one of importance that catches my eye is "Town To Require Resident Composting." I smile and weep silently as I begin reading the details. I am instantly covered in full-body goosebumps, my shoulders heave, and I have the contradicting urges to sob with every ounce of my being and to jump for joy. It is a good day in such an overwhelmingly bad system. This little win feels like a whole lot of hope in a hopeless situation. I continue reading and see the related article: "Woman Builds Outdoor Cat Houses From Rescued Materials" - the tears keep coming. The least we could do really feels monumental at this point. I think of last week when you freed that baby bunny from the chicken wire and the same rush of emotion came over me. Even the thought now brings that same gut feeling and the irrepressible urge to cry; it’s visceral. This deep ache comes from somewhere in my soul. It’s akin to the bittersweet way I miss your touch, yet wish you find the one who’s right for you. I can’t be entirely sure if the involuntary tears are out of sadness for what has been lost or destroyed or hope for what good persists and what is to come.
By Calista Marchand-Nazzaro8 months ago in Fiction
Then and Now
The first ever piece that I published here on Vocal is “What a Glass of Merlot Can Hold: Seeing Past the Now.” As I am writing this, I see the irony in that subtitle; perhaps deep down I knew I would be referencing it someday in the future. Reading that piece two years after writing it, I still think it’s a solid short story. However, I also noticed quite a few things I would like to edit and improve upon. I didn’t remember every detail that I chose to include so, in a way, it was like reading something new to me, yet so familiar.
By Calista Marchand-Nazzaro10 months ago in Writers
Seeing Hope in Destruction
I am deeply passionate about the climate crisis and our connection with the world. That passion was fueled by the knowledge I gained during the semester I spent on my Farm to Table Concentration in college. My primary professor for that semester assigned us many exceptional reads that served to heighten my awareness about the world around me and the role that we all play in altering it. Although assigned by this professor as reading for my final semester in college, not my Concentration semester, Adventures in the Anthropocene: A Journey to the Heart of the Planet We Made by Gaia Vince had, perhaps, the most profound impact on me.
By Calista Marchand-Nazzaro10 months ago in BookClub
The Dangerous Relationship of Romeo and Juliet
William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet is a tale as old as time; everyone loves a story of forbidden love. However, everyone should not love how little Romeo and Juliet value themselves individually. This toxic overreliance on another human being is not the foundation that love should be built on, Will.
By Calista Marchand-Nazzaro10 months ago in Critique
A Taste of Our Own Medicine
When humans were first introduced to this Earth, they always acted on impulse. Without hesitation, they saw something they wanted and they took it. If they wanted to eat something, they ate it without regard to the consequences. If they set their sights on the wrong thing - a poisonous mushroom or berry, for instance - they paid the price. They didn't pay any attention to the existing supply of what they wanted; whether there was only one or there were one million of their target, they claimed it for their own benefit. Instinct was everything. Nothing interfered with their determination, their persistence, their grit.
By Calista Marchand-Nazzaro11 months ago in Fiction
The Grip of Darkness
The object of his desires slips right through his slender fingertips like a raindrop falling through air. He cannot bear to lose this again. He tries to reach out and latch on once more, but his agility betrays him; his grip tightens on nothing but the air through which his mark is falling. Rage boils up and a spark of red ignites within the complete darkness of his world.
By Calista Marchand-Nazzaroabout a year ago in Fiction
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