Tag Archives: Mt. Stuart

I had a dream that lasted 24 years, one that drifted in my subconscious like a satellite in orbit revolving patiently, waiting to be activated. Only now can I see how round and symmetrical the dream was, how it would inevitably return to its origin. I was nineteen when I first saw it. After four days of driving westward to …

“April is the cruelest month,” wrote T.S. Eliot exactly one hundred years ago in the opening stanza of The Waste Land. The famous first line reads like an indictment of the fourth month as Eliot yearns to stave off vernal rebirth and remain in the stillness that precedes spring: April is the cruelest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead …