Norway: Washing The City From Me
by Hazel Anna Rogers for the Carl Kruse Blog We had landed, and it was night. A fine mist was shrouding the land, and all I could see was empty […]
This. That. Bric-a-brac.
by Hazel Anna Rogers for the Carl Kruse Blog We had landed, and it was night. A fine mist was shrouding the land, and all I could see was empty […]
by Hazel Anna Rogers for the Carl Kruse Blog My mamie is a tiny woman. No one knows why she’s so very small, but some have suggested that her mother […]
by Hazel Anna Rogers for the Carl Kruse Blog Stupidly, He and I had rejected the idea of bringing a tent with us on the basis of weight. Our bags […]
by Asia Leonardi for the Carl Kruse Blog Day one wasn’t the best. It must have been the tiredness of the plane, or perhaps the immediate awareness of being in […]
by Carl Kruse A thirty-minute southerly drive from Munich (Germany) and the land becomes one of lakes and trees, and further south the Alps. Much of what is Munich is […]
by Hazel Anna Rogers for the Carl Kruse Blog When I was young and being driven somewhere or other, I would always notice and ponder the physical space between signs […]
by Carl Kruse During the Cold War, Checkpoint Charlie was a border between East and West Berlin or more appropriately, the ONLY border where you could legally cross between the […]
by Hazel Anna RodgersI think in the past I had quite a stressed personality, quite erratic and meticulous without much room for spontaneity within my rigid regime. I still enjoy […]
by Hazel Anna Rogers When I was younger, my family and I would drive around eighteen hours every summer to the south of France to meet with my mother’s family. […]