The Weight of the Wind
I keep a small, heavy iron key in a velvet pouch, though I have long since forgotten which door it once opened. It is cold to the touch, smoothed by the friction of a hand that is no longer here to guide it. We spend our lives accumulating…
The Weaver of Quietude
There is a profound grace in the small, persistent acts of living. We often look for greatness in the loud or the vast, forgetting that the world is held together by the quiet industry of those who simply exist. To build, to gather, to sustain—these…
Beggar by Keith Goldstein
I took this photograph as a student on an overseas program in Morocco. We were visiting the city of Fes. While we were exploring, a few of us were waiting for others to catch up. There was a beggar just to my left, with his arm outstretched.…