Coming & Going

East from my apartment in Manhattan. read more

Saturday Walk Home

Few people are out. It’s 2 p.m. on a Saturday in August in Tashkent during Ramadan. In six hours, there will be life on these streets. I walk home from errands and think about what we show and what we hide, how curb appeal has no meaning here. read more

Melons

 

Green Buddhas
On the fruit stand.
We eat the smile
And spit out the teeth.
—Charles Simic read more

And melons

 

They lie
under stars in a field.
They lie under rain in a field read more

Loving

When you love a place, really and almost hopelessly love it, I think you love it even for its signs of disaster, just as you come to realize how you love the particular irregularities and even the scars on some person’s face. read more

Keeping Cool in Tashkent

When it’s 107F/42C under a cloudless sky, shade is especially sweet. On the campus of Tashkent International School, above, and along Babur Street on an early morning run. read more