She was always sending us loaves of her bread and every time she sent them off, she'd call at seven in the morning and talk for an hour. Graham bread. When it got moldy we used to call it Graham Green.
I've just read Ali Smith's introduction to the (surprisingly recent) English translation of Tove Jansson's Fair Play, which I suspect will be a new favorite. Among other things, it's about editing, in art and in life— an ongoing making and remaking of things, of days. An excerpt from the introduction: The book opens, then, on a simple… Continue reading ‘Fair Play’