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Dispatches From a Confined French Village

Atlanta Journal Constitution

Before I learned the country’s language I learned its streets, the rhythms of its people, the patterns of sunlight on its houses, the way the peaks of the mountains turn pink when teetering between summer and fall.


The Rodin of The Delta

Bitter Southerner

Years of clay live in every wrinkle, crease, and indentation of Bill Beckwith’s hands. He thinks in proportions — the responsibility he holds to teach young sculptors what he learned from those who trained him, the measurements of every face he passes on the street.

Oxford's Music Scene: Where It's Been and Where It's Going

Oxford Magazine

“It was like the wild, wild west.” Barry Hannah and Willie Morris sipped on whiskey together after midnight. Bands plucked and sang until the sun came up. There was no judgment, no rules, no fear of law and order to tame them.

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