On Writing

I write to a world that has no use for me. To a world done with reading. To a world already impatient, cutting me off in mid-sentence to get to the fucking point already. To a world that is fickle and moody, that does not “get” me. To a world that regards my artistic inventions…Read more On Writing

The Center Everywhere

My husband used to tell me a little story I have since cherished that occurred on the day I first arrived in Germany ten years ago. My flight out of New York had been abruptly delayed by a few hours, so he had to wait for me in the airport lobby for quite a while.…Read more The Center Everywhere