From his summer in the Italian Alps, Sean brought home a half dozen souvenirs: some herbal genepi from Aosta, a stick of torrone for dad and, from his hamlet in Val D’Otro, a round of fresh goat cheese. And a jar of alpine honey ”for Auntie Belinda,” he said. “I bottled it myself: it’s strong… Continue reading
half calico
The first time The Maytals came to San Francisco to play, Toots wasn’t satisfied with the quality of the local weed, so someone arranged to smuggle some in from Jamaica before the concert the following night. No tags for this post.
being & nothingness
Reading Wittgenstein is a lot like contemplating zen: as soon as the magnesium ignites you catch a shadow of something at the edge of your vision and you’re instantly off into another bardo. No tags for this post.
tribes of respect
Several strings of prayer flags form the ribs of an invisible tent above the summit cairn. A nearby stacked rock shrine houses a tilting scoured Madonna. And a small vertical bare wooden box with door held closed against the weather using a simple hook and eye protects a frayed and yellow journal: notes and prayers,… Continue reading
米香
Biking around an older part of Taipei’s 三民 neighborhood I wasn’t too familiar with, on a market street with shops and food vendors, I see an old truck with a raised blue awning parked near the corner of the intersection. It was a shot-from-guns puffed rice treat maker!
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