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The View From the Kitchen Table

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Anna was ahead of me, as usual. It’s there in the name — and the name was her idea, something she said years ago, when we started to talk about creating a hospitable place for bringing together these conversations: ‘It’s not a centre. We’re not starting a community. It’s our home, and everything else is going to start from there.’

it’s time to start a school

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Published as Issue 16 of Crossed Lines, my occasional email newsletter, to mark the launch of a school called HOME. An hour’s drive northwest from here, you take a turning off the two-lane highway, near the bottom of a steep hill. After that, you’re on an unpaved road, heading into the woods. At first, there are red wooden houses dotted to either side, but then the scattered township thins out...

The Moment When the White Rabbit Goes Past

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Published as Issue 5 of Crossed Lines, my occasional email newsletter. This letter comes to you from a hotel room in Kiruna, north of the Arctic Circle. The hotel is called the Arctic Eden. From the window, I can see the mine buildings that crown what’s left of Gironvarri, the mountain the city came here to devour.The way I was told it, the Swedes knew there was a mountain full of iron ore...

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