The Cold Breath of Stone
The air at high altitude has a specific, metallic bite. It tastes of crushed slate and ancient, frozen water. When I close my eyes, I can feel the sharp prickle of pine needles against my palms and the way the ground beneath my boots feels…
Times Squareway by Darrell Sandefur
I visit New York City every January for business, and I always go to Times Square for the sights and sounds. I enjoy challenging myself to see the same person twice. On this night it was particularly cold so the typical crowds were sparse. No…
The Architecture of a Pause
There is a peculiar geometry to the way we occupy space. We often think of ourselves as solid, fixed points in a room, but we are really just intersections of movement and stillness. Consider the way a hummingbird suspends itself, or how a…