The Heart is a Library Hunter

My first memories belong to the surreal landscape of childhood. Cushioned in tenderness, they flicker a blurred reel of mango trees, mud pies and mosquito screens.

Occasionally, through the fuzz, concrete moments come into focus. For me, the first of those is the imprint of a rainy afternoon in a library. Continue reading “The Heart is a Library Hunter”

What Dreams May Come: Unleashing Creativity

by Brooke Hardwick

There are some cities that have only ever come to me in dreams. I am not talking about Paris or Prague. The cities that come to me are not real. They only exist in the garnet depths of night when I sleep.

Continue reading “What Dreams May Come: Unleashing Creativity”