Dispatch № 107: Same Place, Different Day
Even when the weather is bad, I go out to wander and make pictures for thirty or forty minutes. Every working day, this is my lunchtime habit, a recursive practice that is exercise for both my body and my mind.
Dispatch № 106: Snow Bridge
Instead, it belongs to a rail-thin teenager who isn’t sure what he wants to do in life…
Dispatch № 105: A Perfect Day for Pounding Rice
The air was cold and crisp, filled with the sounds of easy conversation and the rhythmic, sticky thuds of rice being pounded into mochi.
Dispatch № 104: Possibility
With less than a week left in the year, and with less than a week left for me in my thirties, I am feeling an uncharacteristic sense of hope and optimism.
Dispatch № 103: Nothing for the Sake of Something
To my left runs a long row of houses. To my right is a chain-link fence, woven and fringed with weeds. Beyond it, a profusion of railroad tracks.
Dispatch № 102: You’re Doing Me a Favor
Already, I’ve given away a half dozen old film cameras, a flash, a tripod head, two avocado trees, a couple old messenger bags, the fountain pen and ink, and a small variety of other things.
Dispatch № 101: Festive
Which brings us back to the baby castella.
Dispatch № 100: Going Deep
Mounds of burnable garbage, bundles of cardboard, stacks of old clothes bound with twine, old furniture broken down into pieces, sandwich bags full of old batteries—just about anything you can imagine, really, and the volume increases strikingly as December’s days run out and the new year approaches.
Dispatch № 99: Decompression
A walk and a comedy podcast on the quiet back streets between the school and the station.
Dispatch № 98: Ode to the Kotatsu
A poem about my favorite piece of furniture