Archive | Book Matters

Eternally on the Bus

At 88, he was old enough. Certainly he had lived a bold enough life for a whole army of men in white suits. But upon hearing the news of Tom Wolfe’s death today I still find myself welling up on the streets of a city he loved and documented so brilliantly. Through him we found all the letters besides the 5 Ws and all the colors in “just the facts, ma’am.” O sharp shooter (o sharp suiter), o master of the vanities, without you I never would have found my stranger-than-fiction mission. You lit up Ameriker and the republic of NYC with just the psychedelic bonfire we needed. This girl in brown lipstick beams you eternal love and gratitude.

Tesseracts and Tree Nymphs

Up before the sun so I can properly greet her when she arrives. Settled on a screened-in country porch with coffee, permakitten and I sniffing that sweet, sweet air. Grateful, so grateful. The birds singing a song so true I don’t want to interrupt but am feeling Joni strongly today. (Is she close to slipping away entirely? is she simply the goddess of early morning melody?) Ladies of the Canyon is added to their symphony and then–

Grace doing her yoga mistress poses–she’s got those down–me reaching toward that peach and pink horizon, hands in the air, toes in the wet grass.

It’s still Taurus season, and I’m upstate at A’s as of yesterday.  I needed to be put in my place by wood nymphs, birds, big blue sky.

It got hot so fast this week in New York. In general, my favorite city has never been keen on interstices. Fur hats one day, bare shoulders the next–tempers rising, horns honking. So it was that the glorious kerfuffle of a NYC summer boiled over in the course of one day. Continue Reading →

Land-locked Mermaid

Yesterday could only be described as a bad day. Nothing terrible happened, but dread won the race–I couldn’t see the forest so couldn’t write the trees.

Writing a book is different from writing the short pieces that have been my professional mainstay. Every piece needs to fit into a bigger puzzle and some days I can’t tell if something is too jagged or too smooth to lock into anything else. Yesterday was like that, and also it was raining. At first the best I could do was eat a lot of buttered popcorn and watch old movies. This was not going to pay the bills but it did remind me how my last career happened. Continue Reading →

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy