Being in Lieu
Monday, May 27, 2019
The souls of the damned falling upwards
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A year — actually, much more than that — passing. Do I read? Yes, but not always fiction. Why is it, when reading fiction, that I am so pron...
Friday, December 15, 2017
Desire corresponds to the condition of water
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I finished Maureen O'Shaughnessy's The Truth about A faster than I thought I would, reading through her bright red-bound collecti...
Tuesday, September 12, 2017
The cowardly temptation of rereading
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As it has been well over a year since I last posted here, it's probably not surprising that I feel the weight of it immediately at my ne...
Wednesday, August 24, 2016
Of a strained and outer edge of Turkey
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I haven't been to Ani for more than twenty five years now, but when I did go it had only recently been opened to visitors with cameras. ...
Friday, January 22, 2016
This might be how writing fulfils itself
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I first came across Stephen Mitchelmore's blog This Space on one of those long, anxious evenings, when the only thing that was going to...
Saturday, December 19, 2015
In Lakeland
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I'd started Maureen O'Shaughnessy's Lakeland the night after my father died -- when I didn't know what else to do with my...
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