It’s that time of year again or, better put, it’s that particular season in this expat’s life. Two years in New York have nearly come and gone and because the owner wants his place back it…
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These are the days. Where the sun rains down torrents of blistering light and steam escapes from grates in sultry and fluid wisps. The air plays tricks on your eyes as buildings sway and…
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culture & community relationships & loveTransitioning (or: I’m Here. I’m There. I Was Never There at All)
The sun hits my face as the wind cuts across my cheeks carving southeasterly tracks that ride the length of my jawbone. The gusts are sharp and unforgiving, and somewhat wanton at that. They’re…