POET | PLAYWRIGHT | TEACHING ARTIST
Travel
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Dirty Laundry
A few years ago I noticed a couple of themes in my photography. One was laundry lines. In Genova, Jerusalem, Dakar, Bishkek, Kyoto, Grand Canaria… At first I thought it a bit odd that I was traveling to all these wonderful places, and coming home with photos of people’s laundry hanging out to dry. But then…
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The Magic Pen
I once went to London to attend a “master class” by a famous writer. It was actually a lecture in a room with 200 or so folding chairs. When the writer was finished talking about her dog and her cottage in the woods, she opened the floor for questions. Someone asked, “What kind of pen…
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World Music
Mostly, I was thinking about cicadas. Along the trails outside of Boulder, Colorado in the States. In the trees lining the narrow roads of Perugia, Italy. Electric. There is something other-worldly about these creatures who leave their bodies whole behind ever seven years or so, clinging to the branches; and whose buzzing is so loud…
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All of It: Views from a Bridge
There is a bridge we had built together, between the neurons in my grandmother’s brain, and the neurons in mine. Even now, a bridge that stretches outward from my mind to wherever matter becomes energy.
