Dreaming Out of Open Windows

From time to time, I get blindsided by nostalgia. This isn’t the warm fuzzies or softly sighing kind of nostalgia, but the ambushed and left in a tizzy on the curb type. I blame part of this on the way that memories are stored in an intricate web of sight, sound, and sensation. It’s remarkable … Continue reading Dreaming Out of Open Windows


Where Are You From?

A few days ago, I was talking with an acquaintance who remarked that she had once been asked if she was British. Her voice is distinctly American with a broad Midwestern tone, and she, naturally, was confused by the question. A mystery, indeed. But this set me to thinking about my own experiences with “mistaken … Continue reading Where Are You From?