Sometimes I think I might not have written 'The Age of Miracles' if I hadn't grown up in California if I hadn't been exposed to its very particular blend of beauty and disaster of danger and denial.
The world is a crazy beautiful ugly complicated place and it keeps moving on from crisis to strangeness to beauty to weirdness to tragedy. The caravan keeps moving on and the job of the longform writer or filmmaker or radio broadcaster is to stop – is to pause – and when the caravan goes away that's when this stuff comes.
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'Beauty' is a currency system like the gold standard. Like any economy it is determined by politics and in the modern age in the West is is the last best belief system that keeps male dominance intact.
