Reflections

November 16, 2025

I often find myself standing at the corner of Rua Augusta, watching the tide of strangers pull past me like water around...

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November 2, 2025

I was tracing the lines on my grandmother’s hands this morning while she poured tea. I realized I had never really looked...

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November 1, 2025

I often find myself thinking about the thresholds of a house—those thin, wooden lines that separate the known from the unknown, the...

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