California flaunts herself
Goodbye (for now) to the Golden State.
Latest
The last days
Inside a soft, smothering storm.
Back at the Ranch
The Sea Ranch between storms.
Daffodils in December
A yellow Christmas? No thanks.
Around town
Scenes from San Francisco.
Winter in Los Angeles
Sun. Yum.
“Those poems will live forever”
An interview with the poet Kevin Bertolero, publisher of the gay poetry journal "& Change".
Hills like islands
California from the window seat.
A flâneur in San Francisco
Scenes from strolls around town.
Diving into print
Cyanotypes. Zine-making. Greek publications!
“I like to think of the magazine as an archeological practice”
An interview with Leonidas Liolios, publisher and editor of "The Boy is Beautiful", a striking print celebration of queer Greek history and culture.
“Print holds great importance – I want images to be tangible”
An interview with the photographer Dimitris Tairis about his book, "KERKIS".
dispatches
The pistachio variegations
Back in California, dreaming of gelato. Also: PRONK notebooks!
California
The tentative, rough beginnings of a poem about being back.
field notes
Ruins, remnants
[fragments from Rome]
Baking granola
(A poem.)
field notes
Amalfi shimmers
like the past tense, like a rumour no one is quite willing to debunk.
field notes
ευχαριστώ, Athens
What is left behind. What is longed for. What – maybe one day – I'll return to.
field notes
Echoes of sun on water
In a gallery. On a boat. A year apart.
field notes
Familiar blues
Swimming in the same places, through similar feelings.
dispatches
Bringing books back from the dead
In this issue: a celebration of recent reprints, opportunities to encounter "The President" in the wild, and a handful of recs.
conversations
“It makes me have zero regrets about not completing my PhD.”
An interview with Brendan McHugh about the collaborative effort to bring "The Butch Manual" back into print.
dispatches
A swimming-pool pilgrimage
On a road trip, paying homage to swimming spots, in late-summer California.
dispatches
Taking care of ghosts
When grief is like marine layer (and: slowing down in urgent times).