Memory is a cruel mistress with whom we all must learn to dance.
It was such a pleasure to sink one's hands into the warm earth, to feel at one's fingertips the possibilities of the new season.
Photographs force us to see people before their future weighed them down, before they knew their endings.
Time had a way of moulding people into shapes they themselves no longer recognised.
... for home is a magnet that lures back even its most abstracted children.
She says there are stories everywhere and that people who wait for the right one to come along before setting pen to paper end up with very empty pages.