i wasn't there when izumi's tears flowed like mountain streams spilling swollen banks to ... CONTINUED
tuesday afternoon
a gang of warblers play a game of tag by the bath occasionally pausing to dip while two ... CONTINUED
a koan (just between friends)
maybe the zen masters of old had it nailed down (just so), how even the singular act of drinking ... CONTINUED
trespassing (again)
a sepia-stained ramshackle mess is all that remains of the gallery where we first met. i ... CONTINUED
Art as Embodiment
In this video a friend and client shares her experience of creating a work of art when she was 13 ... CONTINUED
Remembering Bukowski
Prowling the streets and lanes Of Amsterdam I used to cruise the bookstores With a fresh-faced ... CONTINUED
A Confession (of sorts)
You’d think by now I’d know better (or maybe not, who can really say?) because even though I’d ... CONTINUED