★★★ To squinting lensless eyes it looked as if the snow had ended overnight. But fine flakes were still there, and then bigger picturesque ones, falling out of a brightening and even part-blue sky. A new clean white cap of snow covered the mailbox and the bus-stop sign; new soft black slush lay in the streets. At the recessional, cold air poured into the back of the church and people put on their coats before the cross had gone by. The hood of the old parka felt as if it was coming unzipped, but it was the zipper coming unseamed. The snow kept falling, flashing in full sunlight, into the middle of the day. Blobs of ice clung to the moonroof of the new-style taxi. A thundery rumble in the night announced not more precipitation but the Year of the Sheep, two days early, via fireworks on the Hudson. The wind had stilled so that the later volleys illuminated the ghosts of the earlier ones, smoky columns and blooms still hanging where their sparks had once flared.

“Your mental health is intricately connected to the amount of time you spend sitting. One study after another continues to reveal that your risk for depression soars the longer you are sedentary. Sitting also increases psychological distress, and decreases feelings of well-being…. Some of the psychological effects of sitting include putting your mind in a state of mental funk, affecting your productivity at home or work, the accumulation of ‘sticky blood,’ and harsh spikes in your blood sugar rapidly affecting the fluctuation of your moods. Winter unfortunately exacerbates excessive sitting, as opposed to other seasons when one is naturally more active.”

Earlier this week, in the New Yorker’s ninetieth anniversary double issue, Ian Parker and his editor, features director Daniel Zalewski, published a long-sought, in-depth profile of Apple’s senior vice president of design, Jonathan Ive, who rarely speaks publicly at any sort of length. The piece is nearly seventeen thousand words long, meaning that there are many words in it which are not facts. And why would a busy person on the internet want to read words that are not facts? Fortunately, a number of publications have come together in an occasional ritual to read the New Yorker’s piece for readers in order to separate the fact-wheat from the not-fact chaff. Here are the facts that they have gleaned, which is to say, learned.

Entrepreneur Magazine just learned 5 things about Apple visionary Jony Ive:

• Ive is painfully shy — but micromanages his public image.
• Apple’s design studio is cavernous and bare.
• Ive’s design team is illustrious — and largely anonymous.
• He reimagined the Star Wars lightsaber.
• He’s co-designing Apple’s new headquarters.

These facts were liked five hundred and sixty times, shared fifty-four times, and commented on thirty-five times on Facebook, and were tweeted a hundred and ninety-one times.

Mashable had six takeaways from that epic Jony Ive profile:

• Apple’s design studio is like a family
• Playmobil Ive
• Jony and Steve
• Ive’s famous friends
• The wrist, not the face
• The protruding iPhone 6 camera lens bothers Ive too

These facts were liked twice and shared seventy times on Facebook, and tweeted over sixteen hundred times.

The Independent thinks you need to know these things about Jony Ive:

• Skilled family
• Famous friends
• Sporty
• Design fanatic
• Or maybe that should be ‘design obsessive’
• Bad weather
• Star Wars
• Modest
• Steve Jobs’ legacy
• All work and no play

These facts were liked once and shared twice on Facebook, and tweeted over forty-three times.

Cult of Mac learned 12 things from the New Yorker’s profile of Jony Ive:

• Ive gets some unusual gifts.
• Ive is a car nut.
• The Apple Watch was Ive’s baby.
• The iPhone 6 Plus could have been even bigger.
• Ive is still British at heart.
• Ive has an impressive Rolodex of celebrity friends.
• Ive came up with some ideas for the new Star Wars movie.
• Ive hated the Walter Isaacson Steve Jobs biography.
• Ive knows how to fly in style.
• Ive and Jobs got on like a house on-fire.
• …Which isn’t to say that Jobs couldn’t be cutting.
• Ive is f*cking motivated.

These facts were liked a hundred and fifty-six times, shared twenty-five times, and commented on sixteen times on Facebook, and were tweeted a hundred and thirty-one times.

The Verge learned 15 things from The New Yorker’s Jony Ive profile:

• Ive has a Banksy poster in his office
• Ive helped J.J. Abrams design Star Wars’ new lightsaber
• Ive is into cars (and hates Toyotas)
• Ive doesn’t like Walter Isaacson’s Steve Jobs biography
• Ive (seemingly) isn’t thrilled about the iPhone 6’s camera bump
• Apple considered making a larger iPhone 4
• Ive doesn’t care for Google Glass (and neither does Tim Cook)
• Ive probably isn’t a fan of Moto Maker
• Tim Cook may not love Beats’ hardware design
• The Apple Watch still needs some work
• The Apple Watch may eventually come in more materials
• An Ultrasuede cloth may come with some models of the Apple Watch
• The Apple Watch was always going to be rectangular
• The Apple Watch prompted a store redesign
• The Apple Watch is more Ive’s than any previous Apple product

These facts were liked eight hundred and forty-four times, shared sixty-four times, and commented on a hundred and fifteen times on Facebook, and tweeted five hundred and sixteen times.

The Verge also noticed 18 famous people name-dropped in The New Yorker’s Jony Ive profile:

• Coldplay’s Chris Martin
• Stephen Fry
• Paul Smith
• JJ Abrams
• Paola Antonelli, curator at The Museum of Modern Art
• Massive Attack
• Ann Getty and Larry Ellison
• British DJ John Digweed
• Bono
• Prince Charles
• Yo-Yo Ma
• Rupert Murdoch
• Kevin Durant
• Marissa Mayer
• Sean Combs
• Lily Cole
• Olivier Zahm

These facts were liked two hundred and one times, shared twenty times, and commented on nine times on Facebook and tweeted a hundred and eighty-five times.

The Irish Examiner learned 21 things about Jony Ive and Apple:

• Showbiz friends
• Designers rule at Apple
• Ive had a resignation letter in his pocket at first meeting with Steve Jobs in 1997
• Jobs’ office is still untouched
• The future of Apple was hidden only by cloth on a table
• Ive has a Playmobil likeness of himself
• He’s a rugby fan
• And has a Banksy on his office wall
• There’s a cloth in the Apple Watch box
• He doesn’t like Walter Isaacson’s Steve Jobs biography
• He does love cars — but not the Toyota Echo
• He had an input on the design of the new lightsabre
• Apple Watch was an idea before Jobs died
• Ive doesn’t like Google Glass
• Tim Cook’s old-fashioned notifications
• Ive doesn’t like Moto Maker either
• The design team walked around with iPhone 6 prototype sizes in their pockets for weeks
• Tim Cook isn’t a fan of some Beats hardware
• Apple Stores are getting a redesign
• Ive doesn’t like the iPhone 6 camera sticking out
• Apple Watch still has glitches

No one liked or shared or tweeted these facts at all.

Fast Co.Design believes that there are 22 things you need to know about Apple’s Jonathan Ive:

• Designs that Ive hates
• His friends and colleagues describe his true style as a lot more blingy
• What’s on Ive’s bookshelves?
• Ive’s defining philosophy of industrial design
• According to friend Marc Newson, both he and Ive are primarily motivated by the lack of wealth they both experienced growing up
• Ive was first hired by Apple in the ’90s after designing a proto-iPad concept for the company
• Ive had played around with a very different concept for an all-in-one Mac
• When Steve Jobs returned to Apple as CEO in 1997, he was prepared to replace Ive
• One early iteration of the MacBook featured an Apple icon that glowed on and off 12 times a minute
• In Apple’s design lab, the designers keep on hand a box of “interesting” custom parts
• Apple employees three recruiters whose sole task is to identify designers to work for the group
• Ive reads Apple criticism on the web
• They will often place the prototype alongside an early mock-up of what the next generation of the device will look like
• Ive has an inexplicable infatuation with Vertu
• Ive had to win a fight within Apple to make the Apple Watch a product
• Why the Apple Watch isn’t round
• Marc Newson worked on the design of the Apple Watch from the start.
• Products Ive may or may not be working on
• Expect Apple products to continue to take on softer, rounder, more organic forms
• Ive admits that the protruding camera lens on the iPhone 6 is something of a design kludge

These facts were liked two-hundred and eighty five times, shared seventy-two times, and commented on sixteen times on Facebook, and tweeted ninety-eight times.

The Guardian digested Apple’s Jony Ive and learned 23 things:

• Ive has a lot of famous friends
• He’s had a hand in the design of the new Star Wars lightsabers thanks to a boozy dinner with JJ Abrams
• Ive’s not unfamiliar with getting involved in making films
• Earlier in his career, things were less glamorous: Ive designed a bath, a sink and a toilet
• Now Ive has a 12-foot square glass-walled office
• Apple has three specialist recruiters who hire designers, and they only hire one a year
• When Jobs came back to Apple in 1997, Ive had his resignation letter in his pocket
• It was Jobs that brought in Apple’s skeuomorphism, and Ive never liked it
• Ive is (unsurprisingly) obsessive about the little things
• Especially about corners, rounded corners
• His obsession with detail means Apple campus is going to have awesome lift controls
• Lift controls are Ive’s domain because he’s also co-designing Apple’s new campus ( …and his own new house)
• Not even Ive could stop the protruding camera lens on the iPhone 6
• Apple employees tried to live with every 0.1in screen-sized prototypes of iPhones
• Ive pressed for the iPad before the iPhone
• Despite his line of work, he has strict screen time rules for his kids
• Ive has got a penchant for cars (so maybe those Apple Car rumours aren’t so far fetched after all)
• That slight tendency for bling says something about the design of the Apple Watch
• There’s a very good design reason as to why the Apple Watch’s ‘digital crown’ isn’t where you would expect it
• And of course the face isn’t round for a good reason too
• Talking of faces (and cover your ears, Google), the face is ‘the wrong place’ for technology
• And finally, at school Ive was nicknamed ‘Tiny’

These facts were liked three hundred and twenty times, shared eighty-six times, and commented on fifty-seven times on Facebook, and tweeted two hundred and seventy-one times.

So who learned the most the New Yorker’s profile of Jony Ive? It would seem to be clear that The Verge, with a combined fifteen hundred and fifty-three likes and eighty-four Facebook shares, learned more than anyone else from the profile. (As we all know, tweets do not count for much at all.) And yet, because the New Yorker now allows readers to read up to five pieces each month without subscribing — it previously chose one feature per week to unlock — perhaps it has learned the most of all, with nearly fifty-seven hundred likes, over two thousand shares and nearly seventeen hundred comments on Facebook, and nearly seven thousand tweets.

The real estate market is getting WARM, and nowhere is it warmer than in Brooklyn, New York, USA. Why? Because everybody wants to get that Brooklyn Real Estate Look. What’s That Brooklyn Look?

That Brooklyn Look is sleek, modern, and contains room for a large furnace for disposing of medical waste, if needed, or just an elevator. (Atlantic Avenue, Clinton Hill.)

That Brooklyn Look is mixed use. That Brooklyn Look puts YOU where you need to BE on the three-dimensional CAD environment of life. Get That Brooklyn Look. (Bogart Street, East Williamsburg.)

That Brooklyn Look is a converted factory converted before it’s built. (Metropolitan Avenue, Williamsburg.)

That Brooklyn Look is on the cutting edge of pharmaceutical research, but only spiritually. (Jay Street, Dumbo.)

That Brooklyn Look is strong but makes sure to show its weakness. (Tompkins Avenue, Bed-Stuy.)

That Brooklyn Look is so anywhere, therefore That Brooklyn Look is so Brooklyn. (Nassau Street, Downtown.)

That Brooklyn Look is new on top of the old. That Brooklyn look is easy coexistence. (Kent Avenue, Williamsburg.)

That Brooklyn Look is directing you to your new home in room 3257B North — Blankfein Wing. (Metropolitan Avenue, Williamsburg.)

That Brooklyn Look is too cool for school. That Brooklyn Look could also be a school. (Franklin Avenue, Bed-Stuy.)

That Brooklyn Look is ready to colonize the moon. That Brooklyn Look is arcology-chic. (Fourth Avenue, Park Slope.)

What about That Queens Look? (River Park Place, Flushing.)

No! That’s not what people want. People want That Brooklyn Look. (Grattan Street, East Williamsburg.)

People like

bike guy,

one-button man,

Porsche fam,

ghost boy in front of mean car, as well as

a male human and

a female human

transfixed and gazing in awe at

That

Brooklyn

Look.

About a month ago, my little family and I sold the tiny townhouse we’d lived in for just five years and ditched Brooklyn. We packed up and moved about one hour north of New York City, into the heart of the suburbs, in the middle of winter. We always move in the winter.

It would be easy to say that the decision to unceremoniously desert New York City was all our daughter’s fault, but it’s important to admit that the thought has crossed and uncrossed our minds several times, washing over us in tiny waves, over the course of the entire decade my husband and I have been together. The reasons were always the most obvious ones: space, crazy real estate prices, bad air quality, space, traffic. There were always reasons to look around and think, Maybe somewhere else will be different, or better. There are always reasons to look around and think maybe somewhere would be better.

Then Zelda was born, and my Brooklyn neighborhood — a radius of approximately twenty blocks — became our entire universe. From her birth in February through the following autumn, I made it to Manhattan fewer than a dozen times. New York City with a baby is equal parts unparallelled conveniences and unrelenting, brutal misery. You can walk out the door and see people and friends in a moment. You can get to a store in even the worst weather without having to travel too far and you never need a car. But the downsides are also unavoidable: there are so many people. When you’re one person walking down the street it’s manageable. When you’re two, one of whom is in a stroller and needs serious luggage just to leave the house, it can quickly become exhausting. Going anywhere with a baby is a trial, a commotion. In New York City it can be devastating.

We made a short trip alone to the Central Park Zoo in June, only realizing much too late (G train to the E train to the C train) that it was far too hot, and far too crowded. My normally sunny baby was cranky, and with her strapped to my chest, we were both sweaty and unhappy. After lugging a fifteen pound baby and ten pounds of gear in a bag only to find that the ticket machines for the zoo were broken and the lines an hour long (at least), we retreated to the park on a blanket to try to catch a breeze. A bird shit on my shoulder as we stared at the park I have happily sat in so many times. After fifteen minutes or so, we trod back down into the subway. I could feel the baby’s drool dripping all the way down my chest and into my belly button. I felt defeated, three hours later at home, with a cranky baby who had missed her nap.

Over time I became an expert at maneuvering my giant stroller around the tiny aisles of the tiny grocery store, and even more of an expert at not noticing how annoying we must be to the babyless. I started to feel bad for Zelda, sitting in the parks for our daily dose of “green” when I noticed that the green of the grass was burned out by the piss stains of too many dogs on the lawn. I felt worse when her new-found skills of rolling over led into cigarette butts. I felt bad rolling her stroller through piles of garbage, more than once narrowly avoiding feces or urine. She didn’t notice, of course.

At three a.m. one night, our baby stirred. We were laying in our room, and I looked at her on the monitor. She didn’t wake up much at night, so it woke us up, too. “Do you smell something?” Josh asked me. “Like, something being cooked?” “Yes,” I said. “I hear people talking, too,” he said, getting up and walking to the back of the house to peer out the window. Our neighbors were outside, grilling burgers in the middle of the night. What we’d tolerated and joked about for years, “only in New York!” — our quirky, fun loving, sometimes-annoying neighbors — now seemed like a constant nuisance. We took to texting them at early weekend hours: “Hey can you turn down the Sir Mix-A-Lot? I know it’s early but, ha ha! sleeping baby.” They always complied; they were always nice about it. And slowly it hit us: We felt like the annoying neighbors.

A slow, building sense that I wanted a change had taken root. I began to consider a full range of options I wouldn’t have dreamed of years earlier. When, a few weeks after Zelda was born, Josh had found a house he wanted to “just check out” — we’d always done this every so often — I sent him alone, stubbornly refusing to even consider a move. But in July, during a crazy hot and long walk around our neighborhood, I saw a building which had been a church in a previous life but now appeared to be condos. Just three units, it seemed. Condos had never been appealing to me. I scoffed at the idea for years. But there were things I didn’t like about our house, hundreds of years old, now that there was a baby around. The boiler sometimes stopped working in the dead of winter. The floorboards had wide cracks in them that made “babyproofing” seem pointless. I now felt the urge to peek at a condo, up the street from my own home. That Saturday we all went over to an open house. We looked at the second-floor unit. It had some things which our home didn’t: It was all one floor — so very desirable when you’re slogging a baby around — and an elevator. Everything seemed so brand new, because it was. “You’re going to be able to hear the neighbors,” Josh said to me, or maybe the Corcoran agent showing the apartment. “Oh no,” she said, “this is solid construction.” “Humor me and go upstairs, just bang around,” Josh asked her. She kindly did so. And of course, you could hear her, clear as day, just walking around upstairs. The condos were being rented for ten thousand dollars a month, possibly to be sold at a later date for around $3 million. And yet, you could hear the neighbors above and below.

We kept peeking. We couldn’t afford three million dollars for a condo we didn’t want to live in anyway, but we started to think and look at what we could afford elsewhere. Not “elsewhere in Brooklyn,” but “out there.” A lot of our old trips to suburbs of New York, Connecticut, New Jersey, came back to us. Where would we go, should we want to go? We had a short list of places we thought we might like to live in. We kept peeking around, so very lazily.

A few weeks later, we found it. We found the house. I knew the moment that we pulled up to it that I could, and would want, to live here. We came home. We went back during the week, a few days later, to look again. This house was, for our new purposes, perfect: it was all one floor. It was larger. It had a large yard with trees and grass and woods. It was in a very good school district. It had extra bedrooms so that we could have family come and stay or — gasp — house a second child should one suddenly appear.

We sat in our Brooklyn backyard one sunny late afternoon while the baby slept. “It’s nice here,” we agreed. As in all of our IMPORTANT decisions, I am the ultimate decider because I dislike and am consistently resistant to change. I was tired from the long summer though, and realized that I did want a change. I thought about the coming horror of trying to put my daughter into school in New York City. I had grown up in a suburb myself, and had loved it as a child, hated it as a teenager. But I grew up in a suburb of Pittsburgh, this was a suburb of New York. I knew I would have trouble finding people “like me” in the suburbs. But I also thought that maybe Zelda would like to have a big yard. A garden. A tricycle. A quiet place to think and to be a child. I thought of all of this as we sat there. “I want to go,” I said, “but what if it’s terrible?” “Well, then we’ll come back,” Josh said. “Or go somewhere else.”

“What if it’s terrible?” I asked again. “What if it’s not?” he replied.

The Parent Rap is an endearing column about the fucked up and cruel world of parenting.

Do you like seeing a dude frequently get bit by snakes? Do you like watching a fellow renovate his camper van? YES, SAME. Please meet Primitive Tim.

Primitive Tim should be America’s next YouTube star. Why? Primitive Tim will teach you how to cut off all your hair and make a bow out of it and also help you forage a salad on the side of the highway (if you live in Florida). And SO MUCH MORE.

OMG he made shirts about himself, I want one. Let’s be friends with him!!!

Shirts came in today! @SnakeBytesTV @RConfectionary pic.twitter.com/WJkczbrRTt

— Primitive Tim (@PrimitiveTim) January 23, 2015

★ The slashing cold air coming through the briefly opened window made being housebound with ailing children seem like a reasonably good alternative to the day’s other, lost possibilities. Grills had been installed on the roof space of the still-unfinished building across the avenue — not the most obvious item to have ticked off the checklist before building out the apartment interiors, but there they were, snow on their shiny surfaces. Slowly the bright blue sky whitened and then grayed. Outside, at last, in the night, the lights were bright off the salt-crusted pavement and off the clouds, the uncertain color of a paler variety of actual eggplant. Sections of snowbanks had gone to over to solid, clear ice; solid ice lay on the edges of the planters. Two bundled-up figures sat at tables in a public vestibule, behind a row of glass doors each labeled “Public Space” in some developer’s concession. According to the signage, it would close at midnight.

The one change that would make everything better.

What if there were some kind of function in your browser that, each time you clicked “Open link in new tab,” prevented you from opening the link until you answered the question “Do you really want to open another tab, knowing as you do from years of experience that each new tab you open only brings you distraction at best and more often than not increases the sum total of impatience, disdain and sheer horror in your heart about the state of the Internet, the state of the world and above all your sorry place in it, that you cannot click away from the emptiness inside you no matter how many other tabs you open, and there is never a better tab at the end of any click, it’s just one more dark void that mocks your uselessness and reminds you that everything is terrible and only getting worse? Do you really want to open that tab, or do you want to shut the whole thing down and go read a book or something?” and if you still clicked “open the tab” it delivered a short burst of small-volt electricity that stunned but did not completely incapacitate you until even the thickest among you developed an aversion to tab opening so that, after a while, you just stopped opening tabs until you finally realized that you were better off not opening your browser altogether? I am not very tech savvy so I don’t know how feasible this is but, you know, shouldn’t we be working on this rather than curing baldness and droopy dong? I feel like we should. Thank you for your attention.

Yumi Zouma is one of the nicest musical suprises of the last year. “Alena” was a perfect — almost therapeutic — song and their earlier EP is something you can just sort of leave on, looping, without fatigue. The next one, judging by this track via GvB, will provide more relief.

81. Caramel Flan Latte
80. Caramel Flan Crème Frappuccino® Blended Crème
79. Caramel Flan Frappuccino® Blended Coffee
78. Cool Lime Starbucks Refreshers™ Beverage
77. Valencia Orange Starbucks Refreshers™ Beverage
76. Very Berry Hibiscus Starbucks Refreshers™ Beverage
75. Caffe Americano
74. Teavana® Pineapple Kona Pop Brewed Tea
73. Teavana® Peach Tranquility Brewed Tea
72. Teavana® Shaken Iced Blackberry Mojito Tea Lemonade
71. Teavana® Shaken Iced Passion Tango Tea Lemonade
70. Teavana® Shaken Iced Peach Green Tea Lemonade
69. Teavana® Shaken Iced Passion Tango Tea
68. Teavana® Shaken Iced Peach Green Tea
67. Teavana® Passion Tango™ Brewed Tea
66. Cinnamon Dolce Latte
65. Cinnamon Dolce Frappuccino® Blended Coffee
64. Spiced Root Beer Fizzio™ Handcrafted Soda
63. Lemon Ale Fizzio™ Handcrafted Soda
62. Orange Mango Smoothie
61. Strawberry Smoothie
60. Strawberries & Crème Frappuccino® Blended Crème
59. Decaf Pike Place Roast
58. Steamed Apple Juice
57. Hot Chocolate
56. Chocolate Smoothie
55. Shaken Sweet Tea
54. Teavana® Shaken Iced Green Tea
53. Teavana® Shaken Iced Black Tea
52. Caramel Brulee Frappuccino® Blended Coffee
51. Golden Ginger Ale Fizzio™ Handcrafted Soda
50. Teavana® Shaken Iced Black Tea Lemonade
49. Shaken Sweet Tea Lemonade
48. Tiramisu Crème Frappuccino® Blended Beverage
47. Hazelnut Frappuccino® Blended Coffee
46. Espresso
44. Espresso Macchiato
43. Tazo® Chai Crème Frappuccino® Blended Crème
42. Teavana® Green Tea Latte
41. Teavana® Youthberry Brewed Tea
40. Teavana® Jade Citrus Mint Brewed Tea
39. Teavana® Mint Majesty Brewed Tea
38. Teavana® Oprah Chai Brewed Tea
37. Teavana® Royal English Breakfast Brewed Tea
36. Teavana® Earl Grey Brewed Tea
35. Teavana® Emperor’s Cloud and Mist Brewed Tea
34. Teavana® Shaken Iced Green Tea Lemonade
33. Tiramisu Latte
32. Tiramisu Frappuccino® Blended Beverage
31. Caffe Latte
29. Blonde Roast
28. Flavored Steamed Milk
27. Peppermint Hot Chocolate
26. Teavana® Royal English Breakfast Tea Latte
25. Classic Chai Tea Latte
24. Double Chocolatey Chip Crème Frappuccino® Blended Crème
23. Green Tea Crème Frappuccino® Blended Crème
22. Cappuccino
21. Caffe Misto
20. Espresso Con Panna
19. Caramel Macchiato
18. Vanilla Latte
17. Caramel Frappuccino® Blended Coffee
16. Teavana® Earl Grey Tea Latte
15. Toffee Mocha Frappuccino® Blended Coffee
14. Caffe Vanilla Frappuccino® Blended Coffee
13. Clover Brewed Coffee
12. Espresso Frappuccino® Blended Coffee
11. Caffe Mocha
10. Mocha Frappuccino® Blended Coffee
9. White Chocolate Mocha Frappuccino® Blended Coffee
8. Vanilla Bean Crème Frappuccino® Blended Crème
7. Peppermint Mocha
6. Teavana® Oprah Chai Tea Latte
5. Salted Caramel Hot Chocolate
4. Coffee Frappuccino® Blended Coffee
3. Flat White
2. Java Chip Frappuccino® Blended Coffee
1. White Chocolate Mocha

“Skinny” or light variations, iced versions of hot drinks, not-in-season preparations, and bottled beverages have been omitted.

Photo by Elsie Hui