I would still write, but I’d be bitter about it
In defence of beauty, ornament, and the uneasy business of admitting you want to be read
This weekend I completed another revolution around the sun and unlike last year, when I did that now slightly embarrassing 30 things I learned before 30 list, I don’t feel particularly inclined to measure or summarise this one. Perhaps that’s part of growing older, realising that birthdays are less milestones of achievement and more c…
