Essay by Marc Schiffman
Like Lazarus, I woke to a fresh resolution, the importance of self-preservation.
Like Lazarus, I woke to a fresh resolution, the importance of self-preservation.
Snippets of splendor were sprinkled everywhere in Moscow.
Bali didn’t seem real to me until I began writing about it.
In summer, the Vineyard of those who live and work here year-round is barely visible to the untrained eye.
Like Walden was for Thoreau, Chelsea was my experiment in living simply.
If I make claim to anything, it’s to being both a poet and a photographer of place.
Oh, if only they could have seen my tamed-untamed grandchildren at Runaway Bay...
The fifteen-year-old American boy is an unrepentant omnivore.
Spanish and music became ingrained in me, but English was my mother tongue.
I still wonder if learning to write in another language is like taking a leap into space.