On Saturday morning there was a man on the Balboa Island promenade painting a copy of The Raft of the Medusa. He stood on the sand on the other side of the sea-wall. Aaron and I stopped our walk to watch him. Aaron told him it was a cool painting and that he had just...
Photo by Vic Hinterlang / Shutterstock.com We drive south, in the direction of the McAllen Foreign Trade Zone, where my husband’s machine shop is nestled among many others of similar vein, and the international bridge—one of twenty-eight conduits of sanctioned traffic...
Photo by Jay Dobkin, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons Before I walk you to the train, I have to stoplooking at you for the hour preceding thismoment, in which we are late to the train & you are, therefore, late to your new job, & in thispre-moment, which...
Christkindlesmarkt, Nuremburg, Germany Once upon a snow globe afternoonyou weaved between the streetsbeyond the evergreens. The cool melody of December chimed beneath your feetas you threaded your way into the eveningaccompanied by the blossoming-sweet melody of the...
Photo by nbnserge/ Shutterstock.com I’m sitting at a terminal in Charles de Gaulle Airport, wondering about the last time I washed my hands. It’s crowded and no one is making eye contact. I don’t know much about Charles De Gaulle, besides that he was a man in old...
as i descend through the clouds over rakovnik, i see the beautiful city laid out before me like a banquet of setting suns. the iodine lights of ten thousand streetlamps below me like candles, like the sun shining through bullet holes in a vast steel sheet, like a...
