In the past, I was reluctant to write about my own life, in large part because I felt it was unremarkable at best and, at worst, unentertaining. 

This is probably still true, but I’ve found that telling my own story helps me draw connections and inferences that eluded me in the moment. Some of what I write touches on the ancestral pain of being raised in large part by Holocaust survivors; some of it is merely about being a clueless teenager (and occasionally clueless adult).


A selection of work from the last twenty-odd years. In future, I plan to publish more bits in the form of blogs, "news" etc.