It seems like lately, when I sit down to write, it's usually about some form of respite – relief from an undefined, overwhelmingly fearful pressure. I don't know why this leaks out of me so often. I don't really feel afraid. Unless I'm blocking and totally hiding my emotions, which could very well…
read more →we're drifting down this wide river where no one has been before through unexplored country wild – often stupidly violent and fearful, but mostly beautiful intimate and nurturing harmoniously brilliant and sleek yet sometimes obsequious and so silly thick with scores of frightened sleepwalkers who…
read more →A space opened at home on one wall of a spare bedroom, so I took it as a sign. I put in some bookcases and pulled my vinyl record albums out of their crates and boxes from the various spots where I had them stashed. With much joy and anticipation, I moved my Thorens turntable nearby. Finally, all…
read more →
Nothing playing