Artistic Process

Jane and the kids misplace keys. Not me. I don’t. I always return my key to the keyrack. That’s where they go. When the key isn’t on the hook, which happens from time to time, I find it on some surface in the house. Usually, the kitchen table. Then, without fanfare, I pick it up, hang it up, and restrain

In the 18th century, in Hannipol, a small district of Khmelnytskyi Oblast, in present-day western Ukraine, there was a rabbi known as Reb Zusya. Zusya, a pious man, taught about humility and had a strange habit of referring to himself in the third person. Instead of saying, “I am hungry,” or “I don’t understand,” he would say, “Zusya is hungry,”

I rewind the etymology podcast 15 seconds because I missed the details about the origin of the word travesty. I want to listen again—more closely—so I learn it, so I can recall it later in conversation… because if I tell you how travesty—from “traverse” and “clothing”—came to mean “shockingly unfair,” you’ll think I’m smart. Lost in that thought, I suddenly