Category: Living
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On Self-Hospitality and The Right to Be Celebrated
My ‘ghosts’ are no longer the ones who tell me to save the silver for a better day… The temperature of the room slightly alters when the fire from the fireplace crackles in the air. The sweet peppery smell of fresh white freesia starts to fill in the room as the linen thwacked on the…
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Rituals That Outlast Us
Dancing, as an embodied art, leaves no immediate trace. There are no canvases to hang, no poems to print, no manuscripts to preserve. What remains is fleeting: a turn, a rhythm, a shared breath. The aroma of jasmine lingers in the air as winter brushes lightly against silk. As guests enter the palazzo, the chandelier…
Shima Trisna 