Crossing the Border
I was the last car in the slowest line and the ferry from Nova Scotia to Maine had docked more than an hour ago. But the US customs officer took…
Books, works in progress, writing projects, and longer-form reflections from Jeremiah Bartram.
I was the last car in the slowest line and the ferry from Nova Scotia to Maine had docked more than an hour ago. But the US customs officer took…
Whether it was The New Yorker or The Economist or the TLS I don’t recall, but I was reading one of those improving journals one night in my loft with…
I was driving home after a sculpture class. The sky was blue-black and deep, the way it is in winter, and there was a full moon. A few whisps of…
He has set up his show at the junction of two streets, both closed to traffic, in an open space at the foot of some stone steps on which people…
There was a student from Japan named Erina at the Sandglass intensive. She created a puppet of great dignity and sadness with a life-size head made merely of newspaper: a…
At the beginning of my final year of high school I was chosen to spend a weekend at the University of Western Ontario with students from all over the province.…
I went to the biggest puppet festival in the world in September, 2018, at Charleville-Mezieres, a town in the French Ardennes. The festival was overwhelming. It sprawled across the town,…