The last three weeks have been a hectic whirl, of four countries and a nightmare of moving that I won't even begin to express.
In London I went to see David Bowie Is.... , a mindblowing exhibition. It's rare for any museum to put on a show about such a talented, fashion-shaping individual, but the way they laced different phases of his life (personal notes, clothing - lots of clothing - and drawings) was so involving, and the soundrack on the audioguide was brilliant. I have never seen anything like it—and I doubt I will again.
Meantime, my own scribblings have appeared elsewhere:
In Slate, I reviewed a book on the History of Neon.
And for The Australian, a book on the history of whale hunting.
And now through the miracle of technology, I can track the ship carrying my possessions from Munich to the Pacific.