I wander down a street where a gypsy woman in black sings a cante jondo, tremulous and pulsating, from a terraza draped in laundry three flights up.
I took a stroll down a snow melted path by the Rancocas Creek with my love. We wore invisible red silk threads wrapped around our wrists in honor of our fated devotion as we meandered through a brown, sleeping field. Tiny sparrows crunched under brush on broken sticks. And the whoo of a gentle wind... Continue Reading →
It's been a while since I've written, with all the changes that have occurred recently and all, I simply haven't had the time or the inclination to sit down and write. I have also been putting a lot more focus on my other blogs, and so this one has somewhat fallen by the wayside. But... Continue Reading →
Listening to the hallowed thump of my father's fingers on the wood, the tiny squeak of the tuning pegs pulling tension on the strings, my two brothers and I gazed like giddy, perfect Buddhas into the hollow bodies of our parents' Martin guitars from our spot on the floor at their feet. And we watched... Continue Reading →
Look up, man. Not down. A man with blood on his knuckles and his eyes on some weird kind of crack is riding the Metro. There is a homeless woman swathed in black who asks for centimes. A Peruvian immigrant down the calle Monte Perdido yells at her two sons, making them cry; neither of her children are wearing... Continue Reading →
Eight months ago, after you left, I learned how to make soap. In fact, I uncovered the buried truth that adding any number of additives will not, after all, interfere with saponification, and that soap is actually a paradox. It takes oil to remove oil. And so eight months ago I came up with this... Continue Reading →
So, I had to scrap the idea of going deeper into the heart of Morocco, due to time and lack of resources, but I sold the Audi and by God, I'm going to Spain this summer. I am excited about two things: summer camp for the boys and mine and D's voyage into the south... Continue Reading →
It was late August. She lay down in bed for a long while in the morning with Henry, feeling the start of the day already heavy with heat and humidity. The cicadas were singing their summer song in a woosh through the trees. It was a perfect day for the cicadas; still and warm, and laden with the quiet tick of timelessness.
So...my little dream may come true after all. The one I've had since 1991. D and I have been tossing around the idea of going to Morocco next summer. I'll fly to Madrid with my kids to stay with my in-laws for a few weeks. D will fly over at a later date and together,... Continue Reading →