I’ve got the ‘Novembers’. It’s not a terminal case, but I thought just telling you would somehow ease it. No real reason. Just the time of year
In the long days and warm sun of June, rose buds unfold and blossom. But it was late September with “Autumn’s languid sun and rain/When
Graffti inserts itself like the blade of a knife between creation and destruction, between publicity and furtiveness, between word and image, cartoon, icon, and hieroglyph.
From the train station in the Piedmont town of Canelli where Martina arranged to meet us, we follow her in her car down a rough
There is a feeling in Old Massett, a quiet power towering above the vicissitudes of life wrought on this ancient village, the heart of First
“I ran down to your place this morning and stole juniper berries from your kitchen—couldn’t find them anywhere on our way or earlier grocery travels
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