a tale of two swedens.
I was recently invited to a Swedish ski resort called Åre. The region’s alpine landscape promises to be a world away from Stockholm’s cobblestoned streets—but it’s a world I can’t wait to explore.
Mar 21
I was recently invited to a Swedish ski resort called Åre. The region’s alpine landscape promises to be a world away from Stockholm’s cobblestoned streets—but it’s a world I can’t wait to explore.
It was the geometric tiles I found myself drawn to the most—for the way their patterns repeated themselves, extending graceful rows of diamonds, squares, triangles and flourishes across the city.
Last time we’d checked, we were in Washington D.C., but with such a structure before us, its limestone exterior gleaming against the bold blue sky, we couldn’t help thinking we’d somehow found our way to Paris.
Jan 26
“Where then? Spain or Sardinia. Spain or Sardinia. Sardinia, which is like nowhere. Sardinia which has no history, no date, no race, no offering. Let it be Sardinia.” —D.H. Lawrence, Sea and Sardinia You know that person all your friends want you to meet? The one they’re just dying to introduce you to? Maybe it’s—“You’ll [...]
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