(c) Light & Composition UniversityThe Ritual of Sunday
I spent an hour this morning just peeling garlic. It wasn't a chore, really. I had the radio on, low, and the sun was hitting the kitchen counter in a way that made everything feel quiet and intentional. There is something grounding about preparing…
(c) Light & Composition UniversityThe Edge of the Wild
We often speak of the city as a closed system, a fortress of brick and glass designed to keep the wild at bay. We draw lines on maps, zoning the land into neat parcels of productivity, convinced that we have successfully separated the human…
(c) Light & Composition UniversityThe Weight of a Season
I keep a small, silver teaspoon in my drawer that belonged to my grandmother. It is tarnished now, the metal worn thin at the edges from decades of stirring sugar into morning tea. When I hold it, I feel the phantom weight of those quiet, early…