Everyone seems to be out of sorts, or in a state of transition lately. Well, that’ s nothing new— life is flux. No, what I mean is that a number of people I know have been struggling with big question marks, consciously or not. It’s been coming out gradually, as the summer wanes. They hint… Continue reading The impolitic nature of Early Autumn Onset Syndrome (EAOS)
I still rather like this one; Probably could use more editing, but that's generally the case. In places more frequented by stars Night is a vast and velvet thing- An arcing mass, abyss from which the wisps of dreams are rent or born — to which their unreckoned ellipses return at first light or break of… Continue reading An old bit of writing, again.
An old drawing, recently rediscovered. And here we are, still banished to the land of wind and ghosts. I feel I’ve fairly jinxed something by quoting that passage from Hemingway a ways back; while we’ve not had too much in the way of rain, we’ve yet to meet that “night of warm wind” that brings… Continue reading The wind, HOWLING
Walking through Gowanus at sunset Spring is upon us! Still a bit chilly, but a notable shift has begun this past week. As I noted a few weeks back, it’s been a busy [new] year for me so far; hell it's been busy the past couple of years in general (yay). Not over-taxingly so, but… Continue reading Orion’s waning tenure
Brooklyn laundry ladder via flickr hive mind There’s a slender ladder in the yard behind my house. I’ve seen it a thousand times; it starts at the ground and goes exactly nowhere. Patiently ignores the barking of the dog in spring. I know it was planted to thread clotheslines to the windows, but the pulleys… Continue reading unplanned obsolescence
I’ve just walked up the hill from Prospect station and that wind is a vicious bitch from the part of hell that’s just a cold emptiness. It’s carrying a cheerless snow that gathers in shallow pockets which suddenly wisp away, or at you— spineless little hell ghosts slithering the sidewalk on ice-dry bellies. I think… Continue reading fearsome gusts and corrective lenses
ceiling of a coffeeshop in the Jordaan, Amsterdam"To finish the moment, to find the journey’s end in every step of the road, to live the greatest number of good hours, is wisdom."— Ralph Waldo Emerson, Experience, from Essays: Second SeriesHere is a holiday which, more than most, seems to engender feelings of ambivalence (in the… Continue reading 14 February
Curious, that what begat my happiest epoch to date was the bloody, shredding removal of a Cupid’s dart. Or, no— it was the eventual and, sad, timely falling of Damocles’ sword. At any rate, it was something dramatic and mythic, as such things are wont to be; must be, because we’re human, and we love*.… Continue reading Being stardust is dancing with gratitude— that’s what discoballs are about, and this is a love note to everything in dour Winter
I'm not sure when snowstorms became a thing to be numbered— they were fairly common as I grew up; happened rather regularly Upstate; had no names. Nonetheless, they do feel more fierce now than they did then. Then they were just snowfalls. Led to jolly fort-making or sledding. It all reminds me of Moominvalley, my… Continue reading Second storm of our current winter
First post of the new year; a kind of note to self. Christmastime upstate was delightful. Time with the family and relatives; made cookies with mom; shopping with Dad on Xmas eve; ice skating; saw The Hobbit with siblings, nieces, nephews in the best movie theater EVER (reclining full-sized leather seats, no shit). New Year’s… Continue reading twentyfourteen
e daggar art: THE MUSEUM 