Breathless. Back from the Rabbit Hole
Dang. I almost didn’t make it out. I have things to do—Deadlines, dinner, grading, art practice, big plans to make. So what a dumb time to follow a link I found in Jezebel about Victorian portraits, and the cute trend…
Moving Right Along
So I heard back from Coffeehouse Press today. Not interested. It’s ok. I really doubted they would take it, but my friend knows someone there, so hey, what the heck! I am trying to keep myself gathered as I continue…
Joko Revisited
I had the good fortune of spending last weekend at the monastery. It was the 2nd annual senior’s retreat, which means that the 20 or so people who have gone through the process of becoming empowered as senior students…
This Person Should Be This Way: A Real Girl
Finally, I finished Ms. Heti’s book. Ve-ry-in-ter-est-ing. Last night T and I hung out with some neighborhood friends and I was talking to the lady, who is a famous food person and a lovely human who I really admire, and…
Signed, Clueless in the Catskills
Gosh, what can I say? As promised, I have been reading Ms. Heti’s book (I am on page 133, the beginning of the chapter “They Wander the City on Drugs,” which came shortly after the chapter “Interlude for Fucking,” a…
Look! A Real Person!
I love human beings. Not necessarily individual ones, like to talk to, in person, but to watch, to admire, to experience, say, on a subway car full of them. Or to look at pictures of them, in their lives….
Waking Up From Dreams & How Chris Hedges (On War, Art, and Being a Soccer Mom) Helps me Work it Out
Part I My neighbor, Claude, committed suicide last weekend. He was in his 60’s diabetic, super bummed to be riding around in his scooter thing. I always avoided him and his wife, but T, being the friendly one in…
Salon has a winner today!
T just passed this on to me (via Facebook….grrrr…..). Wowza, Ms. Purtill! She just made it on to my women I want to talk to list. Oh, the irony of her getting all those “likes” as she writes about giving…
Is Someone Sitting in My Chair?
There was a time when I hated anyone who mentioned the New Yorker without irony. And then I graduated from Antioch, grew the hair on my head, shaved the rest, that tired old cliche of moving into the mainstream,…
Am I the Only one Who Can’t Handle Facebook?
Seriously. I just can’t be. And yet…I look at the cool, interesting, happy, or maybe tortured, but in any case somehow styled, or, rather, curated, pictures strewn across my computer screen—people I once knew, people I wished I had never…
