Letter No. 47 - Aesthetically Speaking with Margareta Wingårdh

Between Summer's End and Fall's Promise.

The Swan by Hilma af Klint.

Dear Reader,

I have always found August to be a strange month of dualities, not quite summer, not quite fall. The heat still lingers, but the evenings whisper of cooler nights ahead and the promise of a new start. Sylvia Plath said it perfectly:

“August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd …