Inkstone Broom
Its abrasiveness (or what you might call asperity) is perfectly calibrated.
Stories — fiction and nonfiction — about significant objects.
Its abrasiveness (or what you might call asperity) is perfectly calibrated.
Inside, I didn’t feel pastel or small or minimal.
There were always drugs in the house — because everyone who visited him came bearing gifts.
Pure poetry of title and color.
The suicidal ideation of the Cold War was infectious, and I caught it young.
I never gave that little silver rabbit to my mother.
A talisman steering me clear of the Siren song of fear and indifference.
I wanted to find a dinosaur fossil, badly.
These totems keep me centered and help focus my thoughts when I got driving duty.
Anyone with five cents could buy one, but I didn’t know that at the time.
One of the first machines invented and used primarily by women.
A mysterious relic created by routine, familiarity, and sentimentality.
Its inner workings make me think of it as a miniature Modernist building.
My talisman keeps me vigilant, wary of the complex bait and switch skills of confidence men.