What Makes a Home?
What Makes a Home? When people ask me where I'm from, I usually answer that I'm from Sweden. I was born in Varberg, a coastal…
September Preparations
The terrace at Villa Verbino. End of summer, 2026. September Preparations September does not announce itself in Marisòla. It arrives the way most things arrive…
On Leaving Things Unfinished
On Leaving Things Unfinished There are seventeen notebooks on the shelf above the kitchen table — possibly eighteen, one may have moved to the library…
What the Sea Returns
What the Sea Returns The beach that nobody uses is mine, in August, before eight o'clock in the morning. After that the heat takes it,…
The Geometry of Waiting
The Geometry of Waiting August in Marisòla teaches you that waiting has a shape. Not the shapeless thing people mean when they complain about it…
On Being Owned
On Being Owned Villa Verbino was not a choice of mine. The house was my grandmother's, and when she died it became mine — not…
Summer People
The Beach of Marisòla Summer People Every July, without particular enthusiasm on either side, the summer people arrive in Marisòla. They come from the north…
Why Do We Keep So Many Notebooks?
Why Do We Keep So Many Notebooks? I own more notebooks than I will ever fill. I know this the way you know an uncomfortable…
The Art of Small Repairs
Caruso's Office The Art of Small Repairs The shutter on the east side of Villa Verbino has been broken since March. Not this March. The…
On Keeping Things
The bottom tin. It rattles when you move it. On Keeping Things There is a drawer in my kitchen that I have not fully opened…