Rainer Maria Rilke


The girls are in the bedroom with the sun washed over them, mouths slung open. The water here is either too hard or soft, it’s hard to make a lather. I’ve been up more than 24 hours flying, eating, drinking,… Read More ›

Stranger Than Fiction

The guy who cuts my hair has been reading about Synchronicity, something I had only associated with the band The Police, until yesterday. In his example, a good friend of his has just passed away. He was visiting her in… Read More ›


I bought a collection by Rilke at Darvill’s bookstore on Orcas Island, hoping it would free me from a year without writing. The store is small, warm, and jam-packed with books. A chime goes off when the door opens, and… Read More ›