Thoughts

Juneuary, Part Two

As I peered over the open hood of my car a few Sundays ago, I thought of the furnace-days of …

Forgetting

I lean over to release my heavy anchor into the sea, knowing that its warm currents will stay with me, erasing and refining the deep grooves of my memory with polishings of water and sand. As the sharpness fades, a smooth surface will emerge: a tabula rasa upon which I can build a real home for the first time in my life.

A Good Struggle

I’ve often wondered how Odysseus spent his days after returning home. Once the euphoria of resting in bed, embracing his …

Warmth

For weeks, I had been looking forward to Thursday’s barbecue lunch with Andrew. Prior to my first mouthful of moist, …

Full, Bright

For the past year, I’ve considered applying for a Fulbright scholarship for a one-year master’s degree in food culture and …

My Prickly Valentine

Everything is relative. As I write, a three-year-old girl, Charlotte, is singing loudly on the floor of Caffe Fiore, a made-up song …