My brother and Seneca in the ring while I was up at the Farm in July. Summer! It’s been too hot. It’s rained a lot. It’s been busy with work, and (half Fridays notwithstanding) I’ve still not gone on a date with the Atlantic Ocean. Haven’t cycled as much as I’d like. But it’s been… Continue reading Summer hid a whetstone in the slender paths between cornstalks
And, at long last, here, I write something again. Don’t think I haven’t longed for it; time without writing makes a ruin of me. A mere responder rather than a decided adventurer. Time— without time to think, to write— renders me a to-do list, at best. Ugh. And I’ve been feeling a right failure of… Continue reading How life makes failures of us all with sunshine, and the gentle rapid passing of time*
Montmartre— dans la lumière et l'obscurité These are photos from our first afternoon in Paris. It stayed light til 8:30. Now, you know, I've been dreaming of the trip— now that it's over. As I did before it was born. Friday was two weeks since we left for farther shores. It went by fast and… Continue reading Montmartre— in light and dark
A sample of one of the little instagram comics that Z and I crafted last year under the handle @whileyouwerehappy. We kept at it for awhile, but it was time-consuming and after maybe 4-5 months our attentions inevitably turned elsewhere. It was fun, though, and we really did make ourselves laugh like mad people over… Continue reading We cracked ourselves up with comics of a dark-hearted emoji
This photo is from awhile ago, but it's still one of the truest portraits ever taken of me (thx Tarikh). It's who I am, want to be, ever will be. (I miss that coat, I'll always be a bit of an 80's punk rock kid, for better for or worse) . . .… Continue reading Life is what happens while a series of dreams or ideas play out; and then you decide what you’re willing to own.
None of us is a stranger to the need for endurance. It’s a universal theme; always returned to in stories. We endure. And in the strength we needful gain in our small hero’s journeys, we encounter the requirement of meaning. Neither the smallest nor greatest of trials is endurable without that ineffable, elusive thing we… Continue reading Enduring the caprices of the gods
I want so much to write. I’d like to be still for a day or two; to draw. To draw at a rate more like I was in October— daily. Or nearly so. To have space for things to percolate and bubble to the surface from below. Instead, I’ve been kept moving, pulled in multiple… Continue reading A pile of airy bones in an attic room beneath the pitched roof
I must quiet my mind. Sometimes it can be done with reading on the train. And sometimes it needs to be done by formulating, or finding, some clear thing out of the jumble of tangled strings and wires— the ones that formed knots in one’s head during the tumult of the day. Today was like… Continue reading After a day where a sudden drop in tempurature causes green leaves to fall like the piano needles from Charlie Brown’s xmas tree
First: you may disagree, but I don't demean a beautiful wood grain by referring to it as white noise. Sometimes the most powerful tonic is a meditative white noise. It's one of the things I love about the hustle-bustle of this town. Everything retreats as you wander; as you dive inward for a moment— take… Continue reading Here’s ink— doing a physical take on white noise
That’s what some few of we Brooklynites call Manhattan— the ‘Hatters*. Also, Work Island, The Big Town. Often accompanied by a groan (implying the MTA, etc) I’ve been spending a fair amount of time there the past few weeks, and it’s been brilliant. I’ve had to re-calibrate my perspective; always a healthy pursuit. Seeing my… Continue reading Some tall ones in the ‘Hatters
e daggar art: THE MUSEUM 