I've decided to go early. Two weeks from tonight, when I get off work, I'll drive to Connecticut then take the train into New York City. My plan is still pretty vague. I aim to stay out for, and cover the five buroughs in, 24 hours. At or about the top of every hour I'll sit down and write for ten minutes. In the course of each hour, I'll take four photographs. I have no itinerary. I'm not sure for how much of the trek I'll be on my own and how much with my brother and sister-in-law. The bottom line is I don't know much, and that's how I like it. But I do know I'm itching to get going.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Blitz The Ambassador - Native Sun
I heard a little of this yesterday on the radio and really liked some of the music. What a mix! Blitz is from Ghana, currently living in Brooklyn. This is apparently the whole album accompanying a short film. I have yet to watch and listen to it all, but wanted to pass it on. Hope you like it.
Most of us here know so little about Africa.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Dying Arm
The dying arm
was the strong one
quite recently.
Try to ignore it.
Rationlalize.
You are building strength.
It just takes a little longer now,
relatively speaking,
because you're getting older -
but you're not old
though.
You're not dying.
No, of course not.
Never.
Open it.
Close it.
Thin
Numb
Club
was the strong one
quite recently.
Try to ignore it.
Rationlalize.
You are building strength.
It just takes a little longer now,
relatively speaking,
because you're getting older -
but you're not old
though.
You're not dying.
No, of course not.
Never.
Open it.
Close it.
Thin
Numb
Club
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Buried At Sea
As I was getting ready for bed the night before last, my wife called my attention to the television and a special report announcing the capture and killing of Osama Bin Laden. What did I feel? It's about time, I thought, but it didn't resolve anything, make anything right, or bring anyone back from the dead. Vengeance - some idea of making the score even through the multiplication of death.
Who was Bin Laden to us? None less than The Boogie Man - he who murdered innocent civilians around the world and was delusional enough to think himself pious and his war against ordinary people holy. And in fevered pursuit of The Boogie Man and his ideas, what have we become? Destroying cities, bombing mountain weddings, torturing prisoners, strafing boy shepherds in the blood fog of righteous war.
Truth be told, I'm glad he's dead and glad that it was an American who killed him. Something about that satisfies something in me, but it's a dark thing, and not something to celebrate. I will not chant USA,USA,USA in a crowd as if it were some hockey game and our team just scored the winning goal.
At this moment, celebration feels like the wrong response, though the impulse to do so is also present. It is a moment of gravity, something heavy that calls for dignity and a civilized response.
May we take this time to solemnly watch The Boogie Man sink down beneath the waves, away into the dark abyss. May you carry down with you more than just your own murder, deluded ego and culture of Death, Osama.
May you carry down ours as well.
Who was Bin Laden to us? None less than The Boogie Man - he who murdered innocent civilians around the world and was delusional enough to think himself pious and his war against ordinary people holy. And in fevered pursuit of The Boogie Man and his ideas, what have we become? Destroying cities, bombing mountain weddings, torturing prisoners, strafing boy shepherds in the blood fog of righteous war.
Truth be told, I'm glad he's dead and glad that it was an American who killed him. Something about that satisfies something in me, but it's a dark thing, and not something to celebrate. I will not chant USA,USA,USA in a crowd as if it were some hockey game and our team just scored the winning goal.
At this moment, celebration feels like the wrong response, though the impulse to do so is also present. It is a moment of gravity, something heavy that calls for dignity and a civilized response.
May we take this time to solemnly watch The Boogie Man sink down beneath the waves, away into the dark abyss. May you carry down with you more than just your own murder, deluded ego and culture of Death, Osama.
May you carry down ours as well.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
His Own Man
Jack is five years old and the youngest sibling. He has recently revised the birth order of the family by deleting his older brother and sister, who he sometimes describes as annoying, and adding George (3) and Alissa (4). Today I watched them play as I mowed the lawn for the first time this Spring. Jack led the way, wearing his new glasses and a green bucket on his head, exploring the visual world through a large handheld magnifying glass. George and Alissa were obviously impressed.
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