Across the Pond: Christmas in London

Christmas Eve Santa Claus is coming to town. Christmas lights, too, although in mostly pale blue. There is a considerable lack of tacky, blow-up, light-up anthropomorphic ornaments because they’re aren’t many front lawns in Greater London.  Shopping on Christmas Eve is perhaps even more anxiety-inducing: the shops and markets close by 4PM. For produce my parents and I went to Borough Market in Southwark, near London … Continue reading Across the Pond: Christmas in London

New Sounds from my Autoharp

This past spring I went to Joshua Tree for a photo project, and the trip was quite surreal.  When it came time to take pictures, the camera battery was dead.  We couldn’t find a campsite.  There was an Equinox rave happening at the closest available campground.  So it seemed like all signs pointed to “BUST” and we drove home at 1AM.  At breakfast the next morning we … Continue reading New Sounds from my Autoharp

Bear Island Home

“The Lake” as we call it, is perfect for reflection, realization, planning, and most of all life. This house has been musing its splintered boards and rusty pipes for decades. Built in 1912, it’s a classic turn of the century Lake House with Victorian woodwork to boot. Every facet has a feeling of a living library: the light fixtures, the paper thin walls, the stone … Continue reading Bear Island Home

Another tale of Seat Pirates

or “What I experienced on my most memorable urban adventure last week.”   Return the vulgar gesture. A hippie man with reddish brown ponytail and glasses sits directly behind me. A young black man in a red sweater passes to the rear door.  With a grunt, he shoves past the hippie man. “The word is excuse me, not move,” says the hippie. Which is two … Continue reading Another tale of Seat Pirates

He called me “Mother” as I walked past.

This week I overhead a couple of one-way conversations in transit.  Sometimes I listen in to the world they’re externalizing, the one they’ve created for themselves, and I wonder who the audience is supposed to be. Man at Hollywood/Vine Am I in the middle of a performance piece?  He called me “Mother” as I walked past.  He was looking for Father.  They did not want … Continue reading He called me “Mother” as I walked past.

Mr. Tracksuit -vs- Mr. Leather Jacket

In the morning on New Year’s Eve, I was taking the bus to Echo Park, and ran into an inevitable delay.  There had been a two-car collision on the east side of Sunset at Silver Lake Blvd, and the entire street was blocked off by police cars. I thought car accidents were supposed to happen after people started drinking, not before. The bus driver pulled … Continue reading Mr. Tracksuit -vs- Mr. Leather Jacket

conversational shift

Holiday shifts double time, time and a half, time of time zones of perceived notions, tones, recipes for disaster and love wiping the plate clean, sopping turkey giblet gravy with a fresh slice of bread. Why driving to the airport no matter whether I’m picking up, dropping off, going, or coming in the drudgery of a circling traffic drone feels like a change leaves me with … Continue reading conversational shift

Crosstown Charm

It’s easy to zone out on the bus.  In fact, most of the time it’s an essential tool for survival.  Pull down your sunglasses to shield you from unwanted glances, and blast your favorite post-work playlist to drown out the soundtrack of the commute.  That’s how you do it. Every once in a while, depending on the route and time of day, you can catch … Continue reading Crosstown Charm