Happy Autumn. Happy Fall. Happy Hop-tu-Naa! Happy Harvest. Happy Samhain. There is something stirring in the airs of Autumn. Gets me every year. To celebrate the skies of an ever shifting twilight, when the spirits soar through the liminal film between this world and that of the beyond. When the night parade of daemons and tricksters travel and trove.
Oh, the Better Cheddar, Where would I be without you? Words fail me: “world’s best collection of cheeses, chocolates, charcuterie, and condiments” or “a true American gem, ode to the celebration of good food, good times, good company.”
Get to know Nicholas over this discussion on travel, literature, writing, life, love and losing oneself in the beautiful madness of modern life.
No longer the Midwest’s flyover town, KC is striding forward with newfound vigor and a burgeoning sense of self which has the world watching — as if to say, ooh, what’s all this? When juice bars replace steakhouses and the maker movement is now commonplace, you know something interesting is brewing.
Confessions of an Antisocial Writer. Cafes? Don’t do it. For he love of all things Didion! I mean, I get it, there is this undeniable sex appeal. This intrique: scattering your notes across that old bistro set, the heady demitasse begging for your lips: what’s the WiFi code? Nah, I write longhand.
I mean, it’s not cheating if nothing happens. Oh, but emotions run deep. Which begs the question: What’s worse, an emotional or a physical affair?
