The Age of Invisible Stones

We were old. We were weathered. We lost our youthful looks. We dotted Japan’s coastline. We stood at human height, sometimes taller. They called us “tsunami stones.” Our faces were carved Continue reading

An Invisible Narrative

“Could it be that inherited objects can be outlines of our incomplete secrets?”                                     Continue reading


Something about the rich changing smells of nature both comforts and exhilarates me. I cherish aromatic memories, and I am fascinated by the way we humans like to bathe ourselves in Continue reading