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After Neuruppin, where the water calmed every thought and everything seemed quietly balanced, something heavier and older rises above the vineyards of Rüdesheim. St. Hildegard Abbey does not merely stand

Evenings have a different kind of energy—more composed, more reflective, slightly indulgent. A glass of champagne, a well-chosen conversation, the feeling of time stretching rather than rushing. It’s not

I'm a much worse person when I'm not writing. I get too much time inside my head, and that almost never leads to good things. Which in turn leads me to write even when I should be stopping and recharging