The Weight of Daily Bread
I keep a small, wooden rolling pin in my kitchen drawer, its surface smoothed by decades of flour and the insistent pressure of my grandmother’s palms. It is a humble, worn thing, yet it holds the ghost of every meal she ever prepared for…
A Small Boy by Keith Goldstein
I was wandering the small coastal town of Asilah in Morocco. At the time, the town was quite small with a cafe that opened onto the beach. Walking the maze of streets I came upon a small boy. I outstretched my hand to shake with him but he just…
The Weight of Stillness
There is a particular kind of waiting that belongs only to the young. It is a restlessness that has not yet learned to be impatient, a shifting of weight from one foot to the other while the world moves at a pace dictated by ancient rhythms.…