After setting out from the Arctic Ocean, the number one question I was asked en route from Alaska to Argentina was: “How are you getting around the Darién Gap...
Rain dashed upon the glass and steel canyon-streets of London, drumming against the concrete walls that rose from the riverbank, high above the ancient...
Minimalism sucks. No, not fundamentally (say, like fascism) but in its ultimate goal. It is an elusive pursuit; a constant work-in-progress. And how it could not be? There are never enough things that you cannot own.
"I hope you will allow me, at this juncture, to make a parenthetical detour. An artist must from time to time wrench himself from his canvas and inspect its colourful totality."
"My excess baggage had resulted in a handbag full of hostile playdates: a downcast novella, one teaspoon of sanitizer, two broken chargers, a single shoe from a pair of Doc Martens, and a beanie.”