The Architecture of Waiting
We are taught that time is a river, something that must always be moving, always arriving at a destination. But there is a different kind of time—the time of the root, the time of the stone. It is a slow, heavy patience that does not ask…
White Valley by Harry Ravelo
In the mountains of Austria, not too far from the German border, lie a series of sky resorts one of which is the cute little town of Ellmau. My family and I were on holiday there last winter. For us coming from South Africa was quite unusual.…
The Geometry of Silence
In the nineteenth century, the French poet Baudelaire walked the streets of Paris, inventing the figure of the flâneur—the aimless observer, the man of the crowd who remains, paradoxically, entirely alone. There is a specific weight to being…