The little things feel familiar but new, as if I’d noticed them once before, a very long time ago, and then forgot. 

A story about an atom cycling its way through many forms.

Photographs break our evolutionary convention of time, they transform a single moment into a perpetual state of being.

The feeling of time–the layers of history stacked in a single place.

A warm spring breeze drifted over the paddies, and I could smell the earth, the nearby salt water, the growing crops.

With homes for over 1,700 people, but only about 200 residents, Sakatejima lives in a strange space between village and ghost town.

Lilly’s been sending me photos of Singapore. I’m amazed by the colors, the patterns, how meaning is built into the streets.

What if helping a stranger put my family at risk? What if he got sick because of me?