If you’re the only child of an engineer father and a financial analyst mother, there’s a good chance that you and Heather Gordon might agree on something: “I think numbers are beautiful,” she says. A lover of algorithms and an “analog junkie,” Gordon strives to tell stories about personal relationships using geometry, numbers, and code — she transformed a portion of Crime and Punishment into the computer code ASCII — and asymmetrical origami shapes, some large enough to walk through. Never mind the math. Just appreciate the genius.
Heather Gordon translates numbers into oil paintings like Last Woman Standing (above), a data portrait of her mother, which maps the distances between all of the places she’s lived.
In North Carolina, spring brings the scent of fresh-cut grass and memories of helping Dad mow the lawn.
Nostalgic burger joints are like time machines, delivering something extra special that keeps us coming back.
This tiny city block in downtown Greensboro once had a gigantic reputation. Not so much for its charbroiled beef patties — though they, too, were plentiful — but for its colorful characters and their wild shenanigans.
In the 1950s, as Americans hit freshly paved roads in shiny new cars during the postwar boom, a new kind of restaurant took shape: the drive-in. From those first thin patties to the elaborate gourmet hamburgers of today, North Carolina has spent the past 80 years making burger history.
