Desk Notes by Charles Schifano

To care about the state and quality of writing today is to scream into a void while knowing that the void does nothing but laugh.

If you have ever learned a new language, you will recognize these struggles.

Nothing makes you doubt the merits of a music education more than a neighbor who takes up the violin.

In the São Paulo summer, the air is salty and thick and the rains are always just minutes away.

The purpose of life, it seems abundantly clear, is to charge your devices.

To stroll through the modern library in your pocket is to watch the once static and eternal books around you contort and transform before your very eyes.