The two rooms in the Renwick Gallery are dimly lit and packed with people, mostly my age and younger, scurrying from one window to the next to shine flashlights through the pane of glass separating these viewers from the gruesome scene on view. The scenes are miniatures, dioramas of unexplained death created more than 60 […]
Category Archives: feminism
The Morning After
I. I am standing on a precipice, breathless with exhaustion and gratitude and surprise. After years of wrong turns and bad equipment and Road Closed signs and avalanches and misreading the map, I have not expected to ever find my way to the top. I am not so much afraid of heights as I am […]
