Some years ago during a dance rehearsal, an Azeri colleague announced, “Personal space does not exist in my culture. People who want it are considered weird and snobbish.”

I’m not sure why the topic came up just then, but I thought of it today when the musty smell of hand-embroidered linen unearthed from my dead mother’s blanket box kept wafting, disconcertingly, into my nose. Since yesterday, we’ve had piles of handmade lace, tatwork and embroidery on what we call “the rugged tabl...


Continue reading ...