Reflections

November 3, 2011

There is a particular kind of patience required to witness the world when it believes it is unobserved. We are taught that...

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November 3, 2011

The smell of wet sand always brings me back to the feeling of grit between my toes, a coarse, grounding reminder of...

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November 2, 2011

We carry our histories in the marrow. It is a slow accumulation, like silt settling at the mouth of a river, layer...

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