At the end of 2022, I spent one month traveling in Romania, Turkey, and Greece. I spent a little over two weeks in Brasov, Romania,...

I've been thinking about the similarities between writing and photography lately. About how you can zoom in or out towards your...

The Arcul de Triumf in Bucharest As promised, here at the start of 2023, I've decided to revisit Europe with you, my readers. Each...

Forest of my childhood braved, blazed, razed, consumed by the night. Stands solemn now in winter. Fights fire with ice. My dad and I...

I've lived through enough New Year's to know that nothing magical happens at midnight on December 31st. As a kid, I remember standing in...

It's always strange, being home. Home where I was a child, where I became a not-child, where I am not a child anymore. I sat on this tree...

A poem by Daniel Halpern, published in The New Yorker.

I am behind on posting, but that's no surprise. I may give up entirely until after my trip. Travel takes it out of you, and it's hard to...

As I'm leaving for Romania in two days, and in relation to this post, sharing this quintessential Robert Frost poem for this week's...

Literature differs from life in that life is amorphously full of detail, and rarely directs us toward it, whereas literature teaches us...

I have always loved this poem. It is first seen in Gandalf's letter to Frodo in Bree. In that letter, it appears as part of a...