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 2025-07-13 11:00 UTC by Corey
 I’m standing in the house where I first knew the world. The walls feel the same.
The ground holds me like it remembers my weight. It hits me somewhere between the front steps and the kitchen light—this quiet feeling, soft as dust motes in morning sun. The scent of chocolate chip cookies cooling on the counter. Homemade pie, the... Read the whole entry... »
- French Guessing Game
- A One of a Kind Journey in Provence
- Sunflowers on Saturday
- Despite Reason They Bloomed
- The French Baguette
  The original Hermès Birkin bag just sold at auction for $10 million. When I saw the headline, while reading the news at 3 am due to being jet lagged- I had the urge to write about it.
Because it reveals something deeper, something disorienting about what has come to matter—and, more importantly, what has been learned to be ignored. A group... Read the whole entry... »
Over the Moon
2025-07-11 11:00 UTC by Corey I will post more tomorrow, but today I am, as always, jet lagged when I arrive home. Isn’t this a lovely mirror! Of course I found it at the Brocante, I didn’t need it, but it was just too good to pass up. Don’t you just love it. In my reflection, I am holding my cell phone. Do you see the watermelon? Do you know what it stands for?... Read the whole entry... »
Back to California, I would have never believed that I would have lived longer in France, than I ever lived in the States—which still feels odd, even now. But California I call home. That’s just what it is. I’m going back to the house I lived in from the time I was five until I was eighteen. The familiar wonders of it all still live in... Read the whole entry... »
In France, it’s not a baguette.
It’s the baguette.
Sacred. Daily. Ritual.
Crunch. A baguette isn’t bought.
It’s chosen.
Some like them bien cuite—dark, crusty.
Others say pas trop cuite—soft shell, pale.
The baker nods.
They know. And yes.
The first thing you do—when you walk... Read the whole entry... »
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