On the way to new shores, the view of the surface of the sea promises no orientation. Directions are only revealed by the passing of things at the bow. The ship sails along the stations of a family history that slowly blurs into logbook entries.
On the way to new shores, the view of the surface of the sea promises no orientation. Directions are only revealed by the passing of things at the bow. The ship sails along the stations of a family history that slowly blurs into logbook entries.