Reflections

January 12, 2024

In the seventeenth century, Dutch painters obsessed over the way a single piece of fruit could anchor an entire room. They understood...

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January 12, 2024

I remember my grandfather’s driveway in July, the heat rising off the asphalt in shimmering waves that made the fence line look...

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January 12, 2024

There is a language that exists entirely without sound. It is the language of the small and the fleeting, spoken in the...

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