Someone moved behind me with a rustle and slid into the water. A high voice called softly up the scale, and I caught a glint in the corner of my eye … a suggestion of fur and a splash.
Read articleSpring brings writers to Edith Wharton’s gardens
At the beginning of spring, writers come to the Mount, sitting in Edith Wharton’s living room on a rare sunny afternoon, and reflect on the 10th annual residency.
Read articleNew forest paths open at Nightwood
A web spreads overhead in the branches like sails. The strands glimmer as though they’re touched by moonlight. I’m walking up the path in Edith Wharton’s forest, in this winter’s Nightwood at the Mount. And this pathway is new. ...
Read articleWe belong to the light, we belong to the thunder — #Berkshireweekend
A silvery stag’s antlers spindle into leaves, and I wonder what makes the patterns in them … or in lightening. I’d driven south through a thunderstorm to look for sculpture in Edith Wharton’s gardens.
Read articleNightwood grows deeper into the trees
Nightwood has transfigured the Mount again with light and sound and sculpture, and the paths have shifted since last winter.
Read articleThree days to chase the end of summer – #berkshireweekend
A long weekend of quiet days … what should we do? I may explore the Taconics, or the book festivals, or spiderwebs of art at PS21 and Hancock Shaker Village.
Read articleSculpture surfaces in Edith Wharton’s garden
The sea serpent in the garden is unmistakeable — rippling vintage translucent blue. I wonder what Edith Wharton would have said to a creature as long and sleek as a sailing canoe.
Read articleYou can’t stop the beat — #Berkshireweekend
High point in the last week? We’ve had so many as summer hits the Berkshires, even in these chaotic days. Scarlet, my first summer intern, has been getting me out to explore …
Read articleMen on the Amistad speak out in Kevin Young’s ‘Ardency’
Fifty-three people of the Mendi from Sierra Leone captured a slave ship. Each one of them had been kidnapped from a rice field or a house where he slept beside his wife.
Read articleWriters revive lost languages at the Mount
The stories move from inlets of red mangrove and sea grass to worn tarmac in northern Alaska on long nights, and a family looking across city skylines between Tehran and Boston …
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