“Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.”
-Eskimo Proverb
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A Shining White City
In the early 20th century, Carl Fisher imagined the streets to be an all-white city—a sanitary, geometrical dream carved out of a mangrove s...
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Here I sit - nursing a scotch, looking out at the pink and orange reflection of the sunset on the mountain—pondering my solitary act of civi... -
“We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first t... -
The Parable, Redacted A long time ago, a grasshopper was hopping about, chirping and singing. A wretched thing, laboring away in the heat, a...
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