The victory, then, is not in a convincing performance. It is not in the applause, nor in the acceptance of…

The victory, then, is not the finished sword. The victory is the ringing of the hammer. It is the brief,…

For every library is subject to the slow work of decay; it is the archivist’s choice whether that decay becomes…

My flesh has become a canvas, and upon it, an implacable artist is at work. It is the internal adversary,…

From our earliest moments of consciousness, we learn to regard our own mortality as a distant, dreadful adversary. It is…

This is a reflection on living with a progressive, terminal condition—not as a state of passive endurance, but as an…