She stays her pen, looks at her child remembers a dream from years ago; her little baby restored to life, then waking to find it gone. Her boy feels her watching, meets her eyes and smiles. How to keep him safe when fate demands a sacrifice of everyone she loves? She...
I’m a night owl. Western culture doesn’t consider the nocturnal laborer’s efforts especially virtuous. Benjamin Franklin summed the prevailing sentiment toward those who rise late (however noble the struggle with art may have been the night before): “Up, sluggard, and...
I came to Civitella hoping that my time here would be spent either working or, at worst, resting from the rigours of my everyday routine. My hopes were exceeded. Excerpt from "Love Is Power, or Something Like That"...
