Recently, I watched Stanley Kubrick’s prophetic and immensely funny Dr. Stranglelove or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb...

SCHOOL Elementary. With its outdoor hallways, its orange metal playground. Its original one room building of brick painted white and then...

“Who are you? Who are you? Whose silence are you? Who (be quiet) are you (as these stones are quiet). Do not think of what you are still...

First day. The brief train ride from Bullay to Traben-Trarbach is astonishing. In early fall, the rolling hills and mountains of the...

The sun streams through the window, illuminating the streaks that adorn the electric kettle. The hills roll beneath the kitchen, framed...

Klaus read every day in the same chair by the bookshelf. I was a guest in his home, or rather, his son’s home. Klaus’s son Ernst was an...

Bratislava is a patchwork quilt. The city is the stitching together of cultures, colors, language, and moments. I was there for a handful...

Something spooky is going on around the United States. The December 2018 issue of The Atlantic includes a story on rising requests for...

Desired or Perceived. A gleaming white bookstore in Vienna is populated with densely tattooed tech nomad types who importantly shuffle...