The Geometry of Balance
When I was ten, my brother tried to teach me how to balance on a wooden board with wheels. He told me that the trick wasn't in the feet, but in the way I held my breath. I spent the entire afternoon falling, my palms scraped raw against the…
The Weight of a Passing Glance
There is a specific quality to the light in a city when the sun begins to slip behind the tall buildings, leaving the street level in a soft, bruised violet. It is not the clean, biting clarity of a Nordic winter, but a diffused, layered glow…
The World Beneath Our Feet
I was walking to the post office this morning when I stopped dead in my tracks. A heavy rain had just passed, leaving a jagged, dark pool right in the middle of the sidewalk. I almost stepped right through it, but then I looked down. The entire…