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The Absence of Beauty
I stood in front of the painting long enough that my neck hurt from craning upward, long enough to make the connection that onlookers that
Jill Carattini
April 7, 2023
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I stood in front of the painting long enough that my neck hurt from craning upward, long enough to make the connection that onlookers that
“I am the bread of life. Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. But this is the bread that comes down
“Touch has a memory,” said the poet John Keats, who stared down the impending loss of his own life: death from tuberculosis at the age
I had no idea why tears so abruptly filled my eyes. I was crying before I understood why I might be crying. But the sense
It is the longing I first remember. I desperately wanted to be good. Of course, I tested the boundaries tightly drawn around parental definitions of
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