Commentary
On my second night after moving to the Vineyard I heard the Old Whaling Church clock chime out the hour as I was falling asleep.
Beyond the already realized improvements, a host of unseen changes and upgrades have occurred.
Growing up in Harthaven, I was surrounded by artists — my father and mother for starters.
It was the summer of 1962 in Harvard Square.
Harthaven is one of those many remarkable places on Martha’s Vineyard where we feel the presence of our ancestors every day.
Once I was old and glorious. Once my children held tightly together, little stars, all shiny and proud.
On a recent red-eye flight from Seattle to Newark, I sat up all night looking out from my window seat.
We head to Martha’s Vineyard in April for our work week at the rental cottage.
I moved to the United States from Brazil when I was seven years old. It was all one big shock.