In his most recent book, one of America’s most important novelists experiments again, and this time, loses the thread.
Since March I’ve lived in Xochimilco, Oaxaca – home to weavers, aqueducts, and stray dogs.
The mystery that shrouds this man compounds the stunning beauty of his precious, few recorded songs.
The work of two Oaxacan photographers explores creative memory and shamanic practice, at the Centro Fotográfico Manuel Álvarez Bravo.

Since March I’ve lived in Xochimilco, Oaxaca – home to weavers, aqueducts, and stray dogs.