We all need other faces, other lives to throw ourselves into.
Democratic, yet class-haunted—as all the service professions are—political, but neutral ground, you can talk about anything in a barbershop, even in Tajikistan. And while you’re sitting there, everyone else is doing the same thing, everywhere around this planet. Sitting, safe for the moment, ready for the blade.
Is this my conception of the divine, spreading out and seeping in to fill the intricate holes of our teeming reality? Could it be that my infinite God has been, not too small, but too simple?
“I’ve studied 3 languages in the past 4 years. And language still bewilders me. Here are some notes from my meandering.” ~ Seth Morgan
If there is an Oscar for the category, “best glorification of the life of the mind” then the new film “Hannah Arendt” by Margarethe Von Trotta deserves it.
Seth Morgan reviews “A Bow From My Shadow”—a new collection of poetry by Curator staff writers Luke Irwin and Alex Miller Jr.
Across the table from Shamsiddin, I want to know what I can know about him. About the ones I love at home. About others who might have thought they’d hate me before we met. And others who I thought I’d hate.
A Review of Wieslaw Mysliwski’s “Stone Upon Stone”
America’s rural landscape deserves better than “God Made a Farmer.” Dodge-style nostalgia is as profoundly unhelpful—both aesthetically and practically—to agrarian reality as is urbanites’ ignorance.
I shouldn’t be here. I should be somewhere inside with a computer and a stack of books—so say most of the proxies for vocation we recognize. But here I am. Because the seed must be grown and harvested before it can be analyzed. Because the database I’m working on can wait. Because everyone is supposed to know how to dig.
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