Maya Logan was a deep thinker, feeler and creator. Their time was infused with a curiosity that knew no bounds and a creativity that bred excitement into even the most mundane task. Though they died by suicide in 2021, their spirit lives on through the wisdom, creative work, and wonder they left behind. To celebrate their memory, their mother Karina, and sister Annelise launched the Chasing Spirits contest in partnership with Girls Write Now to encourage young people to keep chasing their wildest dreams despite adversity.
Submit to the Chasing Spirits Essay Contest
Insatiable in their intelligence, generous in their empathy, and emphatic in their creative pursuits, Maya’s genius lives on in their memory as Karina and Annelise share their thoughts on mothering, mental health, and the collaborative process of growing up in celebration of Mother’s Day and Mental Health Awareness Month.
To honor Maya’s unapologetic spirit, and to bring to light the beauty of Karina and Annelise’s mother-daughter relationship, we indulge in some of the insights and inspiration that live on in Maya’s memory. Please enjoy this very special edition of Life@GWN…
Karina: Maya Logan was extremely confident and intuitive, a born leader, an incredibly original thinker and artist, a deep feeler, and genuinely creative in all senses of the word. They were also incredibly generous, empathetic, and curious about people’s stories, lives, and experiences, giving and speaking always straight from the heart. They were hurt easily but performed an image of being strong to the outside world. Maya loved people—watching and had a gift for storytelling. They had a dark, irreverent sense of humor, a dramatic personality, style, and flair. Maya Logan also had incredibly quick wit and could make me laugh my head off like no one else can. Many of my favorite memories involve singing and laughing hysterically together, especially singing “Let it Go” from Frozen while driving on the 405 freeway in Los Angeles. I was astonished by how much Maya Logan seemed to intuitively understand and “get” about the world, human nature, and power even as a young child. They were clearly precocious, understanding far too much, too early in a way that made you feel genuinely heard and recognized.
Annelise: When Maya was around the ages of four until eight or so, they were constantly breaking out into spontaneous song. It was like living in a musical, and Maya always needed an audience—whether people, stuffed animals, or our pets—to share their heart with. It was the most innocent act, painting all my other memories of our midnight baking competitions and teddy bear tea parties, swimming, school, and chess games. Yet like much of each other’s natures—we also couldn’t have been more oppositional. The other side of Maya’s artistic genius was so uncompromising that they would quit when they didn’t get their way, or when they “felt like it.” I never would have expected that Maya’s gift for singing was also a stream of sensitivity that made their soul more vulnerable than the carefree improvisational lyrics let on. I poured myself into dance, partially for its nonverbal creative process, while Maya took to rapping as a teenager—feeling out loud more and more. Uncannily, I only understood Maya’s voice in its purity after they died. Since Maya died, I have started singing in peace, in melancholy, when I can’t sleep, especially when I miss Maya. Maya brought me into my own voice and always celebrated that in others.
Karina: To indulge without apology in things that satisfy our souls—like writing, music, flowers, movies, favorite foods, and the surprisingly cute things we discovered and instantly “needed” on our Target runs together (!) Maya Logan continually reminded me of the power of imagining, believing in magic, and setting goals. They had exceptional powers of envisioning, deep curiosity, and critical thinking; a clear sense of what they wanted; and a rage against injustice.
Annelise: I say I had to take lessons from Maya, they didn’t give them. My last memory of Maya teaching me involved them gleefully encouraging me to do a front flip off the dock of our grandparents’ home shores into the cold Atlantic waters as jellyfish swam below. I jumped as they played a moral support Dua Lipa summer hit and promised to film. But that bravery—to flip into cold water headfirst and feel proud of it! That was Maya’s teaching.
Karina: I’ve never embraced neat distinctions around “parent” and “child”, but I think that one of the greatest challenges for human beings, especially parents, is the art of boundary-setting. I believe we’re all constantly learning, growing, and evolving. My children continuously teach and remind me of the importance of approaching and infusing every day with a sense of mystery, passion, wonder, joy, innocence, and magic.
Annelise: Growing up, my mother read to us every night. We would read children’s books, fairy tales, novels, plays, oftentimes my mother letting my sister (four years younger) and I choose one each. We sat together in the soft ottoman “reading chair” like it was our ship, and sailed to undiscovered lands. From her devotion, gift for storytelling, and curiosity, I learned that while we may miss her during the day, she was the captain of our boat by night, training my sister and I to confront and create worlds of our own. This is what growing up means to me.
Karina: I think that art and nurturing, at their core, are about finding beauty and magic in the everyday. I’ve always encouraged my children to understand that beauty and suffering are inseparable, that you can’t have one without the other. It’s important to move through all of the feelings we have, however hard or painful, and to know that suffering, as Nietzsche writes, makes us who we are. For me, to ‘nurture’ means to inspire, to celebrate who we are, and to perpetually seek out art and beauty to offset pain and help us make sense of darkness. I always remember one of my favorite homework assignments in fourth grade: my teacher asked us to write a list of things we could do when we felt sad. That exercise felt like a gift and always stayed with me. In periods of grief and transition, it’s key to know what feeds us– how to find small joys and sources of gratitude each day to keep the spark alive in our eyes and heart.
Karina: A few images or metaphors come to mind: like a spark, a hummingbird or phoenix, an undying creative force, an intense concentration of light, and a water fountain that never ceases to flow. It also looks a lot like Rimbaud’s description of eternity: the sea mixed with the sun, or the infinity of the horizon.
Annelise: Hope is the spirit overcoming reason, and it’s the consistency of art. My mother taught my sister and I to not simply seek out magic and beauty all around us, but to craft our sources through writing and expressing ourselves. By modeling how to find signs and unexpected messengers of hope no matter our circumstances, my mother showed us how to use writing – a mode of expression we all shared – as a lifeline.
Karina: Maya had an incredibly unique voice and way of seeing the world, an ability to narrate with art, passion, and drama, seeing right to the soul. Their writing probed people and landscapes in a way that made them feel familiar and magical all at once. Both Maya Logan and I felt that writing was our native tongue, our most fluent language. I feel Maya right next to me, or in my head, every time I read their writing. It’s where I feel their presence most intensely and palpably.
Annelise: Holding Chasing Spirits feels like having Maya Logan’s presence most palpably with me. My mother and I knew Maya Logan was destined to be a bestselling author, and after they died, we both found that compiling what became their novel memoir was the only way to make sense of things together. Combining the short works they wrote alongside their novel during the pandemic, the secret journals they kept after they ran away, investigative journalism I had edited as a radio show, and my mother’s writings to Maya, we took a year to compile, collage, and explore family photos, social media posts, and the presence – amidst the gaping, complex, devastating absence – of Maya. Through this process, also a personal healing process of a sort, I have also learned how critical it is to use your own vision and vulnerability to infuse stories with your perspective, which we can only work to honor when the author isn’t here to do so themself.
Karina: Always make time for things, people, and experiences that inspire and uplift you, without apology– for example, taking an afternoon coffee break or a walk in nature. Give yourself the gift of ‘morning time’- a free zone of at least one hour every morning to think, imagine, create, write, meditate, or do whatever feels most empowering before starting work and tackling the rest of your day. Even if you have to wake up a few hours earlier to establish this routine, it’s incredibly worth it.
Annelise: I have to add, the most powerful tool for writing and health is catharsis. Because new generations growing up online all the time and without critical media literacy classes for one are more inclined to outsource catharsis and numb it, I say it’s important to both detox from human connection in these forms and find consistently deeper connections that uplift you personally. Maya loved our cat, who would join them oftentimes at their writing desk. They, our mother, and I would take walks and get coffee together every day at our most balanced. But balance is ever-shifting, and ideally, growing with you. To help, routines become key to draw us out of our easily isolated and anxious minds. My mother keeps a writing routine out of the writing retreat she last attended at the Getty in LA with Maya, which I have admired and encouraged writer friends to do. It’s the only way we got editing done, not to mention going through Maya’s journals and documents from group homes and psychiatric wards. It’s a treat and a commitment to yourself in one.
Karina: To remind us all that we have important stories to tell that may help others who are struggling. The act of telling those stories also helps to strengthen intuition, which is something that the world often forces teenage girls, gender expansive and LGBTQIA+ youth to question.
Annelise: To uplift the bravery it takes to challenge the politeness of checkboxes, the convenience of categories; the ones that no one with a story to share can “fit” into.
Karina: My favorite memories of Maya involve them playing dress up (usually in Tinkerbell outfits), throwing tea parties, riding in a wagon to the beach, collecting and washing shells, baking, creating funny songs and imaginative landscapes that made us laugh until we cried, playing chess, practicing their arguments for mock trial, drawing and coloring, building Lego, watching movies with lots of buttery popcorn, keeping a ‘wonder journal’ in preschool, and writing notes to and from fairies. As a toddler, Maya also loved it when I read stories and then went “off the rails” by improvising a zanier, more irreverent ending.
Annelise: The commute home from school one day where Mommy blasted Indina Menzel’s “Let it Go.” Maya enacted letting go of the steering wheel from the back seat as we all sang and laughed so hard we may or may not have been able to see. Oh, and before Billie Eilish and Where the Crawdads Sing, I was enamored with Maya’s alter ego “Billie the Crawfish” for a few too many living room comedy shows…
Karina: Sunshine, coffee, flowers, birds, chocolate, music
Annelise: The smile of a loved one – their power to make me happy unlike anything except for dance and prayer. The sea if near, reading if far.
Karina: This is a hard question, and I’m trying to focus on places I’ve traveled rather than lived. Possibly Marrakech, Morocco for its incredibly unique culture, history, and landscape.
Annelise: Tunis, Tunisia – full of healing palm trees and soul, art and cultural vigor.
Karina: Joan Didion’s writing, especially My Year of Magical Thinking and Blue Nights, has been essential in helping me through grief and mourning, primarily because she is such a powerful and brutally honest commentator on the human psyche and experience. Agatha Christie’s work is always a pleasure to revisit, as it satisfies eternal longings for mystery and escape. Recently I have been delving into 1001 Nights and situating those tales within their rich historical legacy of Arabic and global literature- truly a masterpiece of oral storytelling and a dynamic fusion of diverse cultural narratives. I love how the entire collection of tales is built around Scheherazade, a woman who engages in the art of storytelling to save her own life and the lives of other women. Finally, the Qur’an is an infinite source of inspiration and solace.
Karina: The decision to follow my passion for reading, sharing ideas, having thought-provoking conversations, writing, and embracing experiences and landscapes that challenge me, even when doing so (and attempting to build a life doing those things) felt terrifying. Maya Logan is always present with me in this ongoing decision to embrace my passions– and especially to write.
Karina: My motivation comes from interesting artists and thinkers whom I admire; from my mother; and from within.
Karina: My parents and family, as well as Audre Lorde, e.e. cummings, Arthur Rimbaud, Rumi, Friedrich Nietzsche, Vincent van Gogh, Marilyn Monroe, Eva Hesse, Virginia Woolf, Siouxsie Sioux, and Sinead O’Connor, among many other artists and visionaries past and present.
Karina: I don’t really believe in advice. I think human beings generally prefer to learn for ourselves, and we often learn the hard way. But one tip that was very helpful for me when pursuing my PhD was to treat my dissertation like a 9-to-5 job. I found that critical in order to tackle what felt like an overwhelming task, and for me it meant being at my desk every day by 9AM with a cup of coffee, ready to write.
Karina: That is a very hard question. My mother, Maya, and Annelise have had the greatest impact on me; also my sister and maternal grandmother: all deeply creative souls that continue to shape my own inner cinema.
Annelise: My body (dance) and my film camera
What One Thing Could You Not Go a Day Without?
Karina: Chocolate and pomegranates
Karina: My writing and ability to use words in unique, original ways; my imagination, rebellious spirit, passion, and ability to feel deeply and advocate for what I believe; my willingness to take risks; and the opportunities I’ve had to shape thought on issues I care about
Karina: Night owl
Karina: Cappuccino or cafe au lait, with chocolate or a croissant on the side
Annelise: Matcha with ginger and lavender or chai with rosewater
Annelise: My best friend just surprised me with a dinner party for the launch of Chasing Spirits. I won’t stop smiling. The cake:
Karina: That I’ve changed the way people see the world– I have heard this from several of my students.
Annelise: That I understand what artists need, as an artist myself. It made me feel closer to my sister after their death.
Karina: A writer and/or psychologist and a global traveler
Annelise: A marine biologist once upon a time, now dancer, filmmaker & journalist.
Karina: French, some Arabic, and some Norwegian. I use these languages for travel, for pleasure (the love of learning and/or the mellifluousness of certain languages), and as a way to keep learning about places both known and unknown to my ancestors.
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