This must be the place: ‘Memories of candles and incense, and all of these things, remember these?’
Hello from Room 1001 at the Cambria hotel in downtown Asheville. It’s Saturday afternoon and I’m currently sitting at this writing desk (pictured), I’m overlooking the intersection of Haywood Street and Page Avenue, the Harrah’s Cherokee Center and former George Vanderbilt Hotel within sight.
A singular focus on slowing down the summer
I recently found my old CD album, the giant book of plastic sleeves that many of us tediously curated back in the day. Flipping through the pages, one by one, I smiled as I recalled memories — certain albums serving as soundtracks to highlights and lowlights of my teenage and early adult years.
This must be the place: ‘Oh to live on Sugar Mountain, with the barkers and colored balloons’
Hello from the Merritt Parkway in south-central Connecticut. It’s bumper-to-bumper traffic and has been since we skirted New York City and headed east. Exit 60 is Hamden, Connecticut, a town that I called home during my years attending Quinnpiac University.