Tuesday, January 18, 2022

winter 2022



My fun “memo to the unresponsive gods” honors the futility of hoping for extraterrestrial Contact soon.


Saturday, Jan. 13

Confessing a lovely integrity” is a humble vanity about protean aloneness which is creatively happy.


Sunday, January 02, 2022

café transcript on the identity of Art



A problem with autobiography is that detailing the past after many decades is too time consuming: The smallest event can become stories within stories within. And I’ve still got a life to live.

So, given that there’s no perfect beginning—certainly not beginning with childhood—“In The Beginning... Once upon a time...”—I’ll just recall something that suits my mood, whatever the day.

How it all hangs together will have to emerge (if at all) somewhere ahead.