Watched Blood and Sand the other night. Well, as much as we could stand. It's a movie starring Tyrone Power from 1941, and it's frightfully long. The story meanders all over the place; it goes from trippy to moralistic to downright weird and cheesy. We made it through about and hour and a half before giving… Continue reading Toreador
The rain has stopped. The men from next door are talking neighborly, I can hear them now I’ve just opened the window. I like the sound of tires on the still-wet pavement as a car goes by. A quiet section of the city, this last handful of blocks before the cemetery bisects the avenue, not to… Continue reading Scaffolding for memory
The mist had become rain proper by the time we emerged island-side to East Village sidewalks full of hopefuls.
On a cold, windy weekend I contrived a little garland of fabric flags— droll points affixed at intervals to a length of pale ribbon because the undraped window looked dreary and forlorn. Days later I looked at them, trying to gauge whether they cheered. Outside, the trees wore bright-gold leaves, a yellow burst against the… Continue reading fabric flags
From a congress of reeds along the water’s edge A white crane rose on a silent vector— horizon-wise...
Just some randoms from the past week. Bits n bobs.
Here are some photos from last weekend. A crisp sunny Saturday in November calls for wander time. Took the train out to Bushwick and meandered in the sun. We had some pints in a yard, then made a circuitous path northwest and into nighttime before heading back Slopeward on the G. A good day for photographing, and clocked six miles walking, even with… Continue reading A farther afield wander
It’s been a seething, anguished game of grenade-tossing between two very different Americas, and we are all victims of it, now, winners and losers.
e daggar art: THE MUSEUM 