The Weight of the Void
We often speak of objects as if they are islands, self-contained and sovereign. We focus on the texture of a leaf, the curve of a stone, or the sudden, sharp line of a branch, believing that these things possess their own meaning in isolation.…
The Salt of Pure Joy
The taste of a summer afternoon is always a little bit like salt and dust. It is the grit of the playground against your palms, the metallic tang of a bicycle chain, and the sudden, sharp sweetness of a piece of fruit shared in the shade. When…
The Blur of Being
I was walking home from the grocery store this afternoon when a sudden gust of wind caught the trees. For a split second, the world didn't look like a collection of solid things anymore. The green leaves and the brown branches smeared together,…