There are many parts of my life I can’t remember and there are many reasons for that. I’d like to think of my brain as a well-organized refrigerator: I can reach in there with my eyes closed, and know where… Read More ›
isolation
Song for madness, ode to moon
The halo around the moon is the son of madness who follows a cold light who sits inside shadows haunted by sounds — a footstep, a figure, a face… who’s fallen for his own reflection, has nothing but himself and… Read More ›
A Bit Green
I bragged that after six days on the road, I was only on my second T-shirt. I wouldn’t have taken off the first one, had it not been for the stains that were either beer or coffee, maybe both. We… Read More ›
The earnestness of the 70s
Time Passages, Al Stewart. I grew up in the 70s, the 80s…the photos are embarrassing. Equally so for the 60s, I’m guessing. Songs like Time Passages, well: it’s good, it’s earnest, and yet it has a bit of cheese to… Read More ›
The low-level anxiety of modern life
I’m now assigned to a new project that will go the next two or three years, and I’ve been on it a year already. We had our kick-off meeting this week, had two meetings prior to that, to discuss and… Read More ›
The tip of my finger, the iPod dial, the distance of convenience
Convenience sucks: it’s why we throw so much crap out at Starbucks, at McDonalds. The single-serve American dream of instant gratification. Email thank you notes, Tom Riddle’s diary: “friends” guiding you through a phantom-life with a divining rod, by remote… Read More ›
A cold and broken hallelujah
It’s hard to go inside yourself and not be self-indulgent. Most people don’t, and leave a lot behind. You need to feel the presence of death on you and the dark that comes with it to fully appreciate the living,… Read More ›
Confessing to the internet
It’s good to get things off your chest. They don’t belong there: put them on the Internet. Out here, there’s subway walls extending beyond the moon for spray paint, murals, poems. And it doesn’t come off. I’ve been following a… Read More ›
When I’m there I’m not
Connecting! I’m on the text now because I got one while I sat at the restaurant across from my kids, coloring. We step outside to take it down, it’s so good. (It’s like we’re here now, but not. I can see… Read More ›
Fake rooms for people
In the mid 90s I didn’t have a computer and had to rent time on a box at an internet cafe on Broadway. It was dark, small and felt sleazy: four or five of us with our backs to each… Read More ›
