Two friends and the dislike for cheese that glued them together.
What I remember about that cat.
The internet keeps talking about how the world is ending.
It rained today. Not a lot of rain; just enough to inconvenience a person carrying a folder full of endangered papers, who didn’t have an umbrella. Just enough to make you question if it’s weird to wear gloves in the rain; if it’s better to just take them off. Won’t we be cold anyway? It … Continue reading Iterance
No es que extrañe mi país, dice, y patea la nieve con una bota desaliñada. Pero a veces pienso en su tierra colorada, la boca roja del río, los saltos dorados a la luz del sol. La lluvia de oro con flores que flotan suspendidas, como si el tiempo se detuviera con el viento. No es … Continue reading Lo que es
And just like that, 2016 is over. So much happened this year on the world stage, a lot (ok, most) of it unpleasant; but on a personal level, it's actually been quite a successful year. It's been a bit hard to document at the end of blog posts, though, so here's a post devoted to the writing-related … Continue reading 2016 roundup
When summer was still alive, we left our candle-lit tents and made our way to a clearing lined by the dark shapes of the Lithuanian forest. There’s something special in being involved in the rituals of other cultures—in being a spectator to something that carries so much. To experience the swaying movement, the closed eyes, … Continue reading From Before
Vilnius was built in a forest, and trees hug its walls as it rises in their midst, red roofs painting a stretch of autumn foliage in the midst of the deep green. Forest ripples and stretches out on the horizon, rising slightly over the city level, as if nature is refusing to be outdone by man-made … Continue reading Forestation
because sometimes the soil is loved just as well when under the toes of memory sometimes being there means less the presence and more the weight of love and sometimes love is something I do best when standing far away sometimes when we commit to each other – we only break further away because I … Continue reading why leaving is the thing to do
The air of what once was is tingling. It shimmers through the fistfuls of iron clasped in the bus, the calls of the youth in their soccer teams, in the eyes of a distant lion. I appear, now, as a traveller. On my first night, the street was like open arms. She displayed to me … Continue reading to return