A passed-down, cross-stitched quilt provides a geometric medium to explore the topology of my Midwestern ancestry. This is part of a series on the generational aesthetics and politics of pink and blue.
It is election year in his country. The things he remembers—things he wants to forget—wake him up at the other end of the ocean.
Home is the warm hand that had hovered above you in the earliest moments of your life and which has left its edifying imprint upon you. I speak of the warm hand as if it were a constant. There are instances when it is not.