Reflections

September 7, 2011

The smell of rain hitting dry, sun-baked clay is a scent that travels straight to the marrow of my bones. It is...

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September 6, 2011

There is a quiet physics to the way we move through our days, a hidden geometry in the tasks we repeat until...

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September 6, 2011

To hold a flower is to hold a brief, frantic conversation with the sun. We often forget that these petals are merely...

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