We are heading into a thoroughly privatized society—if you can call an agglomeration of people without a cohesive narrative ‘society’ anymore.
Read MoreIt’s been an anxious season, an anxious year. Too many things going wrong on too many levels, too much progress that had been built, slowly and with much labor, wiped away with the sweep of a pen.
Read MoreI don't normally click on tantalizing celebrity gossip presented by sites bearing the titles 'BoredomRUs' or 'LookatME', but I hadn't had my coffee yet, and, recently having had a rather large birthday myself, I found myself entering a site portaled by a figure of a fleshy woman in a tiny red white and blue flag bikini.
Read MoreI can't get enough of Patti Smith. Not since first seeing her in Portland Oregon in 1979, an artist I'd never heard of, but the ticket was $2, so why not?
Read MoreIt's been a full year since my friend, the writer Les Plesko, died. That night, I watched his YouTube station, over and over again, and wrote the poem On Watching Your YouTube Channel Late at Night.
Read MoreAnother Halloween Eve-- great candy in the bowl with the green hand that screams and laughs witchily, my artist daughter's spooky decorations adorning the garage, the stairs lined with glowing luminaria...
Read MoreWhen traveling, I often run into a terrible melancholy that Alain de Botton called the melancholy of the traveler--you're here in this glorious place, and yet, you're not making the most of it.
Read MoreMarch 1, 2010 6 p.m. Cold, socking in after a brilliant morning, a hazy day. The brightness now bled from the sky, the silent sundown, without color, taking with it the warmth of the day.
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