Saturday, March 26th. The shoes I wore to meet the builder.
Numbers are scary. Numbers signifying your weight, your blood pressure, your bank account balance, your age. Numbers, as it turns
A Second Sunday. A first month.
I didn’t know of Jim Haynes until I read about him this week in Leo Hollis’s Cities Are
On starchitects, domestic violence, and the Stockholm Syndrome.
Le Corbusier. Frank Lloyd Wright. Louis Kahn. Great architects. Lauded visionaries. Master womanizers and manipulators. The film “My Architect”, a
Friday, December 11. The shoes I wore to meet the architect.
I like wood. Concrete. Tile. Marble. Steel. Mullioned glass. I especially like concrete formed to look like wood. Will likes
Friday, November 6th. The shoes I wore to meet the architect.
You learn a lot about things you didn’t know you didn’t know when designing a house. Like shear
A Second Sunday. An Eleventh Month.
Butter yellow formica isn’t a material you see everyday. Unless you’re at my house. Our dining room table
Vive la France! Or why I fly the French flag.
Why would I go to the funeral of a friend or relative but not all of the funerals happening in
Tuesday, Sept 8th. The shoes I wore to meet the architect.
In my life, I have been told I resemble a prettier version of Allison Janney; easily passed off as Katharine
On being subtle but not small.
Subtle. The difference between a male and female jawline. The angle of the forehead, the curve of the brow.
There’
On parenting, love, and simply, what is.
Is the pain of yearning for a child you never had greater than the pain of regretting a child you
