The Geometry of Absence
We spend our lives drawing lines across the sky, hoping they will hold. We trace paths with our fingers against the windowpane, tracing the flight of birds or the slow drift of clouds, trying to impose order on a vast, indifferent blue. There…
The Weight of Stillness
There is a quiet, persistent myth that time is a river, always moving, always pulling us toward some inevitable waterfall. We measure our lives in the ticking of clocks and the shedding of leaves, convinced that to stand still is to be left…
Parasol by Thaddeus Miles
Sunday morning I drove a few hours from home to visit the Magic Wings Butterfly Garden. While trying to capture a photo a transparent butterfly I came upon this delicate flower a little larger than my thumbnail resting in the shade and on a…