Despite its cozy appearance (and ‘cozy’ may be an understatement), this little French pub is freezing. Paris is the worst kind of cold tonight: windy, hovering just above freezing, and throwing biting little raindrops every which way. But this tiny corner bar is staffed by a young woman wearing cat-eyed liquid liner and a hoodie.… Read more

A classmate was out of the country at a conference last week, so I sent them daily updates about what we did in class. I thought you might enjoy this insider view the first week of the Poetic Embodiment module. MONDAY Today Instructor M brought in a bunch of different objects for us to play… Read more

It’s my first Saturday evening in Berlin out from under the cloud of jet lag. I’ve found a gorgeous little spot called Rhinoceros, a small, dark, candle-lit cocktail bar spinning jazz on vinyl. It’s one of a handful of English-forward places I’ve found—anywhere that calls itself a cocktail bar is liable to be, I think—and… Read more

The irony is not lost on me, going from my job as “The Communicator” to a place where I, mostly, cannot communicate. I’ve been here a week and a day. In the last weeks before my departure, I spent my churning anxiety steeling myself against the gnawing loneliness of these ten days, between landing and… Read more

Guten Morgen! I am here! In Berlin! In .  . . a flat. My huge windows are flung wide, and the church bells are ringing again, clamoring around the courtyard my flat faces. Between the peals, I can hear other Sunday morning sounds—a man unlocking his bike, a gabbling child, an unseen neighbor puttering around… Read more