Reflections

July 24, 2015

I remember sitting on a wooden pier in Cornwall, watching a fisherman mend his nets. His hands were thick, calloused, and moved...

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July 24, 2015

We often think of memory as a static thing, a photograph tucked into a drawer, but it is more like the wake...

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July 23, 2015

If the world were to suddenly cease its turning, would we finally see ourselves, or would we simply be startled by the...

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