Intersections

Archive

Intersections: 008 — Wetware Upgrades and Laser Beams

01 - Out of focus streetlight in a dawn snowfall

January 28th, 2023

Fellow watchers of scintillation,

A lone streetlamp stands sentinel outside my apartment, holding a light against the long nights of winter. Snowflakes drift into its white orb from the darkness beyond. Hurried feet trace ephemeral patterns on the living canvas.

#8
January 28, 2023
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Intersections: 007 — Mountain Reveries

01 - Hiking boots crossing the Brazeau River

Nov 27th, 2022

Fellow foot soldiers,

The rains arrived in the mountains alongside my stride, quelling summer’s lingering heat with moisture, and frost, and snow. With a collective sigh, billowing smoke from the Chetamon Wildfire receded along with lofty goals; reality keeping us both in check.

#7
November 27, 2022
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Intersections: 006 — Scribbles in the Schedule

Burnt forest in mountain valley

September 12th, 2022

Fellow shouldered shoulder-season-ers,

It’s camping season! At least, it is according to my annual rhythms. The hoards of mosquitoes and tourists have retreated back to the abodes from whence they came. Glacier runoff has slowed, making river crossings more possible than in the warmer days of summer. And equinox light is perfectly balanced - not too much, and not too little.

#6
September 12, 2022
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Intersections: 005 — Caution Tape and Pineapple Shirts

Downed tree across the sidewalk

August 20th, 2022

Fellow citizens of summer,

Can you feel it? Overnight, the wind has suddenly taken on a cool tinge; rustling both leaves and bare legs with a warning breath. Summer was short and sweet. I am wistful, but the seasons march on.

#5
August 20, 2022
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Intersections: 004 — Structure in the Sandbox

Portrait of David in bamboo grove

July 7th, 2022

Fellow toilers of words,

The time travel experiment of Afterwords Japan (AWJ) is complete! And…I daresay it was a success? A sincere thanks to all of you who hopped onboard this ephemeral pop-up newsletter with me.

#4
July 7, 2022
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Intersections: 003 — Time Travel to Japan with Me

Fresh green tea on a worn wooden desk

(A time sensitive tldr: Join me for a new pop-up newsletter that will run daily from May 7th to 31st: www.davidquiring.com/afterwordsjapan)

May 4th, 2022

Fellow imbibers of delights,

#3
May 4, 2022
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Intersections: 002 — Seasonal Creative Disorder

Heavy snowflakes in a spring snowstorm

April 21st, 2022

Greetings great encouragers,

Welcome to edition 002 of Intersections, my monthly missive that has been running for two straight months now. It’s nice to be here.

#2
April 21, 2022
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Intersections: 001 — A Blank Slate

Winter waves on Lake Winnipeg

March 16th, 2022

Greetings dear reader, from the blank canvas that is a white Winnipeg winter.

Snow is falling gently as I write this; a soft quietude floating down from the sky that has the power to settle even a city. I sip a cup of bright green tea as I stare out the window into a monochromatic world. For a moment I forget about the horns blasting Trump-isms a stone’s throw away from my home. For now, the snow covers up the sins of the world. But, spring is coming.

#1
March 16, 2022
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