The Language of Flowers
February 1 | 2023
February in the Northern Hemisphere is a chill month, brittle and unripe. …
June 11 | 2020
My father was known among his family and friends for “His love of kittens and fledgling birds. His obsessive collecting of seashells,” as detailed in my new book, The Smallest Objective. The shells shown here were both collected and arranged by my father. It’s on a beach in Florida, when he stoops to “claim a whelk of modest proportions,” that one of the most harrowing moments in the book occurs.