“As we lifted off, China growing ever more distant from the window-seat, the endless ocean opening up before us, I was torn between the excitement of something new and leaving that which I'd grown to love. In that moment, I… — Megan Rich Copy Share Image
“Patrick would flip The Beatles on mornings after a fight, when we’d bake bread, kneading our troubles into something we could eat. We’d take turns in two-part harmony, working the gluten out, 'fussing and fighting', and as the smell of it baking filled the apartment with the homeliness of 'Penny Lane', we’d be 'ob-la-di-ing' over the sink, one washing, the… — Megan Rich Copy Share
“The deeper I went into the valley, the greater the rewards. First, it was a clump of birches, the bottoms wrapped in thick fog, the uppermost branches clear now, nesting birds waking with bright-eyed songs. Next, I passed under the pines, browned needles underfoot, and was transported to the quiet moments of rapture under such branches throughout my life. The… — Megan Rich Copy Share
“The afternoon sunk into the tall grass growing on the roadside. The distant dome turned from coral to burnt umber, a final flash of amber as the stars unveiled themselves above. In the last light of dusk, we facemmo la scarpetta every last dish – leaving behind olive pits, an oily carcass, several rings of spilled red sulfates – and… — Megan Rich Copy Share
“It came as a surprise to us, as I suspect it does to many, that marriage changed us. We’d felt as though we’d always had those rings, wrapped about our fingers, like the scraggly garlands of those first, revelatory conversations. But those real rings, wooden as they were, began to set their roots, and that settling, the calming feeling of… — Megan Rich Copy Share
“I once had a drinking contest with an artist on his yacht... It amused him as I took shot after shot, and I realized that this was the reason he'd invited us, his amusement. Looking back, I thought he didn't expect we'd have anything to say, that my questions about the artist's purpose, his existential quest for self in a… — Megan Rich Copy Share
“Artists have a habit of becoming what they practice on the canvas. Who knows when it began? When he discovered that the sky, filtered through a ghostly veil, would prove so profoundly right? I admit I feel the power of his paintings, can clearly see how they symbolize just what he claims, but why is it that an artist is… — Megan Rich Copy Share
“We arrived in Ulm just after the honeymoon, the moving there only prolonging it. Having slept that glorious jet-lag sleep right into evening on… — Megan Rich Copy Share Image
“And then there was his love affair with my best friend, perhaps the only woman he’d ever seen drink several glasses of bai-jiu and… — Megan Rich Copy Share Image
“Though we could always explain that our life was not as glamorous as it might seem in the telling, we did come to realize… — Megan Rich Copy Share Image
“My favorite times were spent in his backyard where he and his roommates had “let nature take its course,” the weeds towering above our… — Megan Rich Copy Share Image
“They then interviewed us, asking about our love of Qingdao, how we met, why we came. Having learned quickly what they wanted to hear,… — Megan Rich Copy Share Image
“Besides all of this, Patrick and I living together for the first time meant it was the beginning of a life together, that nitty-gritty… — Megan Rich Copy Share Image
