Author Archives: D. L. Pughe

Eva Hesse was born in Hamburg, Germany on January 11, 1936. Her father, Wilhelm Hesse, kept a scrapbook from the time of her birth—including how she progressed in size during that first year. Wilhelm was a lawyer and lived with … Continue reading →

Draft cover of the Hide Aways book 2023 with artwork by Juliette Losq In the late summer 2020 year of seclusion, several women friends began to share memories of hideaways where they spent time as alone as children—spaces of play, … Continue reading →

Rodolphe Bresdin – French, 1825-1885 – Trees Bending in the Wind by D. L. Pughe originally published in Writings on Air (MIT Press, Terra Nova Books, 2003) A week ago Bellagio was still flush with foreign visitors wandering through the … Continue reading →

Amy Mikelson – Tree Thicket, 2018 Walking up our driveway in my mask, back from an urban hike, I see Aziza sitting in the tree in her neighboring garden and she’s reading.  I feel an instant recognition of my own … Continue reading →

Knowledge is blind, empty, and restless, always pointing back to some kind of experienced, seen act. And the experience back to which knowledge of foreign experience points is called empathy.[i] Edith Stein Einfühlung ist eine Art erfahrender Akte sui generis. … Continue reading →

Arriving at some train station —not Nyugati, Keleti perhaps. MML was there—and Jon, a few other friends. I was sent out to find our way —somehow we’re in an outer area, vacant overgrown lots — darkness has fallen —I make … Continue reading →

 by D. L. Pughe From 1990           Quite unexpectedly in late August of last year I was taken to the OP Project in the rural countryside near Utrecht. I was visiting my friends Lefke and Willem … Continue reading →

An excerpt from A Different Acquaintance, by D. L. Pughe The porcelain room of the great fortress of Würzburg is in a high archway connecting one enormous chilly stone chamber to the next. Those rooms are warmed only by massive … Continue reading →

Jean Vigo made Zéro de conduite in 1933 and it was banned in France until 1945 out of government fear that it would be an incitement for boarding school boys to misbehave. It was revolutionary and anarchistic. In October 1933, … Continue reading →

The dentist and her assistant move in unison, four hands in silence passing tools and cotton, suction and light. The dance of women’s fingers beyond words. Aware of all of it or none; drifting off to the night I held … Continue reading →