Feelin’ It: on Bernie, NYC, and turning 30

Two girls asked me, and proceeded to give me the designated phone with the camera set to selfie mode. I went to take a picture, the blonde saying and laughing, “I guess you can take a picture of yourself.” To which in my indignation I replied, “I’m sorry, I thought I was taking a picture of you, with my sign.”

Millennial psychology is pretty twisted, sometimes. Continue reading Feelin’ It: on Bernie, NYC, and turning 30

The Other Corner Part Two

It’s tough not to have preconceptions. “In New York, this. In New York, that.” Regardless of the subject, (be it bagels or fashion), the statement was often a profession of what was the best, or which was the smartest/most efficient way to do something.  I used to find that formulaic phrase very annoying.  While its annoyance has not completely evaporated for me, I realize my reaction was about … Continue reading The Other Corner Part Two

The Other Corner: PS1 Books Inspire

One Sunday ago, after work I strolled over to witness the mass of artists, publishers, and small presses at MoMA PS1 for the New York Art Book Fair.  This was my first. It retained the excitement of the book fairs that would pop up every year at my elementary school–a temporary store of colorful, educational tools which would be a class requirement to attend. Except at … Continue reading The Other Corner: PS1 Books Inspire

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

Steven: Making the Film

I began my trip at MOMA.  I went straight upstairs to view the Magritte exhibit.  The gallery was full of chattering French people, and every minute or so I floated back to the summer I spent in Paris, when I walked alone through the Musee d’Orsay, soaking it in.  The bizarre landscapes and subversive humor in Magritte’s canvases proved to be a perfect warm-up to … Continue reading Steven: Making the Film

April in Hollywood by Wanda Coleman

cool brisk fingers in my hair the fresh sweet bite of crisp red delicious apples service stations with “sorry no gas” signs palm trees.  the american flag full mast and shouting sun.  the body shop in red black and white. wind the black man in blue who’s got to get to cerritos on 55cents. latins stealing swigs of tequila from a torn brown paper bag … Continue reading April in Hollywood by Wanda Coleman

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

Triple Breakdown

A girl driving a blue sports car comes to a screeching halt at the corner of Sunset and Alvarado.  Her car has broken down.  She bursts into tears, lamenting over how stressed out she is.  A passerby approaches her for consolation. “What happened?” She starts dancing, explaining how her car broke down between sobs.  “Wow,” says the passerby. “Is this funky enough for you?” Now … Continue reading Triple Breakdown