The Weight of a Quiet Room
Dear stranger, I have been sitting here watching the dust motes dance in the afternoon sun, wondering if you ever feel the heavy pull of a life lived mostly in your own head. We spend so much time curating the versions of ourselves that we…
This Is Where I Want to Be
Sometimes I wonder if there is more to it, more beyond; or maybe it is just this that I have now and have to conform with it. However, I really can get enough. I have to keep trying to reach the limit; but really! Is there a limit? I want to believe there isn't, that way I can keep trying and reaching for more and more, and be like the bird that flies high in the sky and travel the world.
The Architecture of the Table
In the seventeenth century, Dutch painters obsessed over the peel of a lemon, the way light caught the dampness of a shucked oyster, or the precise, precarious tilt of a pewter flagon. They understood that the domestic sphere was not merely…