When I was a little girl, I used to make dresses for my dolls. Not buy them — make them, from whatever fabric scraps I could find. I had strong opinions about what looked right and what didn't, even then. That instinct never left me, though it shifted somewhere along...
I have never driven a car. Not once. I've never sat in the driver's seat, never touched a steering wheel, never parallel parked or stalled in traffic. And yet I've stood in front of a Ferrari at Motorworld in Cologne with my heart doing something strange, and I've...
There is something about Frida Kahlo that refuses to stay inside a museum. You encounter her on street murals in Mexico City, on hotel walls in Tbilisi, on the menus of cafes named after her in cities she never set foot in. More than 70 years after her death, the...
I've always been drawn to Van Gogh—not just for the swirling skies and vibrant sunflowers that everyone knows, but for his letters. Reading his correspondence to Theo, fellow artists, and friends, I discovered the man behind the paintings: vulnerable, passionate, and...