Sometimes we are born again through the memories we left in cold rooms.

A dream in three movements

No day is as brilliant in its moment as it is in gilded memory. We are the dreamers and the dreamed, the meal and the eater, forever spinning between hunger and home.

Breakdown

“It’s not your fault. But it is your responsibility.”

An Intimate Journey through Moondance and Arc of a Diver

Children are made readers on the laps of their parents.

Dance, like laughter, needs no translation.

Some albums cannot be just listened to—they possess you.

I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart: I am, I am, I am.

We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep.