In this essay I turn my analytical tools toward the phrases I sometimes record upon waking from my language-driven dreams.
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JOURNAL
In this essay I turn my analytical tools toward the phrases I sometimes record upon waking from my language-driven dreams.
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Photos of boys of a certain age enjoying their winter break. Also, a glimpse into the origin of the phrase in the title.
Read MoreA handful of photos documenting December wonders plus a brief confession about my experience of this year’s holiday season.
Read MoreContrary to what I imagined, and definitely against most that I’ve been told, turning forty is not so monumental at all.
Read MoreSome inspiration from a glimpse of the Mokotów sky caught one half hour before sunset and minutes before a burst of rain.
Read MoreLonger than anything I’ve written since college, this essay is about a summer cabin and a daughter’s memories of her father.
Read MoreOn ways that working has eased my recent suffering, or rather the completion of work, the proof of my capacity for it.
Read MoreReflections on my father’s funeral and one remarkable photo taken 11 years, 11 months, and 11 days before the day he would die.
Read MoreA springtime feast for two that seems to break all the rules can still be a festive celebration of the holiday spirit.
Read MoreIt turns out that having lice is not as bad as it seems—and reminiscing about the experience can be downright wonderful.
Read MoreIt’s unclear who had the bigger job this time around: the one forced to do the writing or the one forced to do the forcing.
Read MoreDays before the year’s close, another dismantling was on display. Here is my words-and-images record of this remarkable event.
Read MoreA selection of captions inspired by a photograph of the view from our kitchen windows on a snow-topped Warsaw day.
Read MoreReflections on a tradition we adopted in 2015, which lights up the dark winter mornings with a steady uptake of jolly cheer.
Read MoreOn the fifteenth anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, a sunset scene in Warsaw, Poland, is a symbolic comment on the tragedy.
Read MoreMy son, Anker, caught at the perfect juncture between playing in the sand and having decidedly outgrown the sandbox.
Read MoreOutside our windows, a construction site roars to life at seven o’clock in the morning. But when evening comes, quiet falls.
Read MoreA moonshot of an observation inspired by a shot of the moon captured on the evening of my son Anker’s sixth birthday.
Read MoreThis southern view captures more than an instance of weather: it is a document of the senses reveling in the crisp, clean air.
Read MoreThe ubiquitous Polish intercom keypad features numbers with distinct tones that enable playback of simple melodies.
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