Archive for the ‘tomes & scribbling’ Category

~ rainbowie ~

Tuesday, January 10th, 2017

McSweeney’s Believer Logger published Electric Blue, an essay I wrote one year ago, about Bowie’s life, death, and impromptu NYC memorial. Scroll bars will center below, or go to the source via link above.

~pantoffeln & glück~

Wednesday, November 30th, 2016

We rented a car and had an adventure at the family storage unit on the outskirts of Berlin. Because of our crazy schedule, we had a mere ninety minutes to find the one thing we’s come for: Ali’s mother’s hand-written cookbook. Greeted by a small room-sized crate of boxes, we found it–in nearly the very […]

~sound & vision~

Thursday, November 24th, 2016

Blue, blue, electric blue, that’s the colour of my room. Pilgrimage to 155 Hauptstraße, to the apartment this song was composed in and of. I feel thankful to all artists who’ve been a lifeline, and in particular to the ghost Bowie still inside, wondering and waiting for the gift of sound and vision. For the Iggy […]

~late night, SoHo~

Thursday, October 27th, 2016

First meeting with agent, last meeting with favorite library. Change!

~solstice moonrise~

Monday, June 20th, 2016

~every other day of the week is fine, yeah~

Monday, April 4th, 2016

Sunday spring sprung! Suddenly forty degrees and wild with wind after days in the near 70s, but the cherry blossoms prevail–and veil the sidewalk of Minetta Street. What remains of the Fat Black Pussycat Theatre–a regular venue for Tiny Tim and Mama Cass, and allegedly where Dylan wrote Blowin’ in the Wind–in left corner. As it […]

~venice: libreria acqua alta~

Thursday, September 24th, 2015

Venice is a literary city–even the city’s lion mascot seems in on it–so a bookshop was a natural diversion. Libreria Acqua Alta (High Water Library) does sometime flood, and thus has books stacked in gondolas, canoes, bathtubs. The shamefully flirtatious proprietor, Luigi “if a woman is a flower you are a bouquet” Frizzo, is tamed […]

~only alice~

Friday, August 28th, 2015

I love that Tom Waits song, but when considering Charles Dodgson’s collaborators, for me there’s only my (late) kitty’s namesake, Xie Kitchin (above).  We took an evening walk to the Morgan Library, to see Charles Dodgson ephemera that called up, among other hauntings, the spirit of my furry girl, Xie Kitten.

~make no bones~

Wednesday, July 1st, 2015

Willa speaks her truth in the stacks of The Strand.

~arrange whatever pieces come your way~

Saturday, June 13th, 2015

When the universe demands patience and more patience, a lady can come at it with horns or graze in the grass. I’m aiming for the latter, delving into the new book and, when my mind is no good for it, with farmer’s marketing, vintage bed finding, strawberry shortcaking, gardening, flâneuring, reading. The full quote from […]

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