To see a world in a grain of sand, so William Blake’s poem begins. Here are many worlds. The desert changes the scale of perception, at once vast and then detailed. Taken 25 years ago, this was the first time I had seen a desert. Breathtaking. Hours stretch thin under the sun, then collapse suddenly at dusk, shadows leaping miles in minutes. The desert holds all its times at once—prehistoric, now, and some version of after.

My familiar. Oh, Chiik!

A quiet moment in Crackington Haven: a man sits outside his cottage, taking in the calm of a Cornish afternoon.

Most days I don’t miss New York, mostly what I miss is being young in the big city. In my mind, there is something quintessentially Manhattan about this: sleek, brushed metal, industrial but not cold. As an onlooker, there is always that aspiration to someday gain access to the inside.

Where Mit and his twin brother Garth spent their summers growing up. August 7, 2009

stylecouncil1: somehow, I find myself intuitively relating to garth more than mit. it's the paleness, the grim set of the mouth, drawn brow, and overlarge hands...

Through the streets of the city, in each step, there’s that implicit trust.

For Sri Lankan weddings, carefully arranged plates of sweets, mewara, are offered to guests. A lovely wish for a life that full, rich, and sweet.