."Where do you live?" asked the tortoise. "Right here," I replied, "on my bike. That is where I really live!"
"And by what means?" he continued, smiling knowingly. "By pedal...and by art"
"Ahhh," said the tortoise, and winked before mounting his own bicycle and vanishing into the forest.
Toward the middle of March, I returned on my bicycle to the burnt forest where, two months earlier, I had constructed a pair of mud enclosures
In the newly watered Watermouse swamp, I hear and imagine frogs.
"Tell me this," suggested the ancient terrapin, shuffling slowly to and fro, and settling his weight into the moist peat, "How do you think about motion?"
Visiting a friend one afternoon, I took two photographs...
Thresholds are places of transition. Typically imagined as places we pass through, or tipping points, moments on the brinks of exceeding capacity, they might be reimagined as places that inhabit human sensibility...