Columns

I am an architectural marvel, a gleaming façade, a mirror in the middle of an urban wasteland. And yet, I am invisible. You might think—

Reality Beyond Realism in the Paintings of Edvard Munch

My sense of gratitude seems to have grown with time. I feel grateful about as often as I need to pee, which these days is a matter of minutes more than hours. 

There is no sugarcoating this: Climate change is going to be tragic.

I start lucky. Two friends in Southeast Alaska have a permit and a boat and invite me to join them as a deckhand, gillnetting. For three summers, we share a bunk and work within a few feet of each other, coming back to Juneau most weekends...