Adespota on Valentine’s Day

There is no Saint Russell. So I am, as my Italian friend Vanessa once told me, adespota. Vanessa, who is from Le Marche, knew because she is too. With all the names in the world, and a limited number of saints to go around, many of us are. I love the word. It means both… Continue reading Adespota on Valentine’s Day

Crossing Seven Silences (in two parts): 2

“The silences” suggests a limitation where there isn’t any, a purity somewhat like the absence of mixture I am loathe to credit. And so there are taboo silences, like when your sister marries a black man, and these are closely allied with the silences of prejudice and bigotry, as when your uncle comes out from… Continue reading Crossing Seven Silences (in two parts): 2