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CRAIG SHUBIN

CRAIG SHUBIN

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CRAIG’S INSTAGRAM

Recently, I was in Oregon with my folks.

It showed me how homesick I’ve become over the years, especially after having a son. The challenges of living abroad have grown since he entered this world, I can’t even get the education system r

I.
 Her blue shirt and pink hat rise from the taxi parked at our hotel in Amman’s old city. From the terrace above, I notice her back unwind slower than last time I saw her. She squints tighter, and her smile is a millisecond slower when she se

II.

A river trip is a lot like a road trip. Travelling by raft and car have been engrained in the fabric of my youth. To destroy the former, would eliminate me.  The man at the helm has changed though. My dad now sits at the front of the boat. Altho

III.

You know the feeling; you’ve been flirting with disaster. The question is, how bad is it gonna be? A breakdown is imminent, emotionally, or mechanically.  For four days, we’d put petal to the floor, moving through heaven and earth,

The joy and the misery are inseparable. Everything sucks but everything is perfect. Your eyes are heavy but you don’t rest. Your feet are swollen and bitten and blistered but you can’t stop flipping through the gears. The heat is punishin

Twitter is getting flooded with throwback photos captioned with “show me you were a fashion icon as a child”. Most people are treating it as satire, posting photos of themselves in totally unstylish and unremarkable drab, while I am using

London.

Few things sting of passing time like an empty home. Bare walls resemble the visceral blankness found at the end of any chapter and vacant corners mimic the hollow gutted feeling brought about by looming change. Of course, change is exciti

The Honey Sun.

Under the most romanticized of assessments, coronavirus has mangled livelihoods and cast many of the things we love into disarray: post-work drinks, dinning out, and, chiefly among them, traveling. We reeled in those livelihoods, wen

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