Essays, notes, and small observations on writing, design, and slow living.
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Posts grouped around a shared topic.
Invisible Cities is a book I return to every few years, usually when something in my life has gone strange or quiet. This spring it found me in the latter mood, and Calvino, as always, was patient company.
Continue reading →I have started leaving my phone at home on Sunday afternoons. The world rearranges itself almost immediately. The trees are still trees, but I notice them again.
Continue reading →Borges is a winter writer. The labyrinths feel warmer when there's frost on the window, and the libraries feel infinite in the way only a long dark evening can.
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