Photo by Brian Benson About a decade ago, when I was as directionless and angsty and heartbroken as I’ve ever been, I went on a boat ride with two of my best friends, Galen and Reid. I call it a “boat ride” because if I say it was a trip down the Mississippi, you’ll...
I imagined the festival – scenic whirl on the great wheel,holding hands and swiveling to watch the white corona reflect in Baltic waters beneath the Hörnbrücke. I believedoutside our window keelboats would compass us to city center, where we would dance through...
“Moonrise over the dock” by Arturo Donate is licensed under CC BY 2.0 My family and I are lined up on a pier at La Parguera, one of three bays in Puerto Rico where bioluminescence blooms. Within this sphere of yellow-washed lamplight, a bubble of people isolated...
What always shocked the Moby Dickheads was a whaleboat’s flimsiness, how squat the gunnels, how thin the planks separating whalers from depthless ocean and the 65-ton sperm whale they’d stabbed. All yesterday I’d been stuck working the whaleboat exhibit. That meant...