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“That’s an awful lot of money to go into a shop,” my friend, a creative director and no stranger to event planning, mused as we traded Paris Art Week VIP passes like baseball cards. In a single, whirlwind long weekend last October, we wended around the aisles of no fewer than five art fairs: The Paris Internationale, THÉMA, Design Miami/, Offscreen, and, the main attraction, Paris+ par Art Basel…
Recently, an incident occurred that should not be common but is: A woman—we will call her Ada—was assaulted by her husband. The couple had not been able to conceive a child, so her husband beat her, shouting insults while he did. Then, he threw her belongings out of the house into the night and told her not to return. One of their neighbors who had heard the shouting came over…
In both Spanish and Portuguese, one word for “season” is “temporada.” When I started learning both languages at once, I noticed their similarities and differences, the way they seemed to weave together and diverge, never on truly parallel tracks. It makes it difficult, sometimes, to pick the right word in the right language at the right time—but anyway, not here. Temporada; temporary.
“I can’t get up!” It was 5 a.m. when the dawn chorus was interrupted by a cry for help. An elderly woman had fallen while sneaking into a field with 25 other nanas, and the group rushed to her aid. “Are you alright?” one asked. They helped her stand up, brushing off her clothes and smoothing her hair. After ensuring she was fine to walk, the group pushed forward. No nana could be left…