RHYTHM IS THE INSTRUMENT

When the summer comes, we greet its terms as pure of intention  and eminently logical—it’s obvious to us we deserve its gentle embraces, sof...

I have heard it said  that thunderstorms are angels crying  up in heaven. Two tears for Auschwitz and Hiroshima, perhaps;  and one for Pilot...

When it moves too fast, even mastery  will break stuff. There’s a time to make  appointments—and a time  to test your patience.  For instanc...

A life isn’t finished at the moment  when it ends, but when  nothing more can be added to it, and nothing less subtracted— in other words, w...

Vanity must have its place, just as sour grapes deserve their fable. After all,  several mirrors  are still the best way for you to be able ...

First off: get buzzed on the brightly dark  shadelight,  as cool-filtered  by hundreds  of recondite maple leaves; now, you are ready to jum...

They say the right moment is the moment when  the flower opens. And so, I guess, here I go: having the temerity not to grow but protect sti...