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I always had a penchant for doing things I wasn’t supposed to, especially as a child. One hazy summer, I was poking around on my mother’s silver MacBook, feeling quite clever for having cracked her not-so-difficult password: my full name. … more »

Obachan is a force to be reckoned with. She guides me through Tokyo Station with the speed and efficiency of someone less than half her age. Her body, eighty-three years in the making, carries its own weight, its own burdens, more »

My impressions of Montréal were a haze of summer memories: Leonard Cohen’s mural just off Boulevard Saint-Laurent, not far from where mourners gathered on his doorstep upon hearing the news of his death; the elegant staircases snaking up the facades more »