The Jonas Brothers have been stars for awhile. Their music and drama have been the soundtrack to my daughter's life. She just turned 30. So, how could I resist an offer to go to a JoBros show together and witness the ardour of it all?
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Post-eclipse, thrilling with fellow humans at what we had just witnessed, it was a stark reminder of how few and precious are the sweet collective experiences we now share in an America riven by engineered dispute. And how utterly important it is to be reminded of the significance of shared wonder.
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And, so, we light up our smokes. Then, ponder the / shape and proximity to clouds of what escapes / our lips. Passing the time between the next / befuddlement, the fresh intoxicating despair, / the blindside moment of sublime wonder ...
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Bill Hart, a dear traveling companion through this vale and holler of light and darkness, passed from this mysterious world on Friday evening, on Feb. 9, 2024. Here are some thoughts and images about a notable human being, artist, and world-class craftsman. And, to be sure, a genuinely offbeat, unconventional, and bohemian soul.
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Take a break from worrying about the fate of the Republic, beyond the locked gates of a forested park where the pine trees offer fine company and conversation and the view from on high poses some good questions.
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There are many days it seems to me music is helpless against the daily worldwide onslaught of human beings acting like cruel demons. Yet the promise of coming together to experience the communion of shared and transporting musicality is certainly not nothing.
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I could be the man the boy / dreamed of being. I could be the / boy the man dreams of remembering. / I could be the man who saved his mother. / I could be the man who fought his father, / who finally and everlastingly / thrummed some sense into / that thick Latinate, hot-blooded, / black-haired head…
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As David Byrne cries in "Born Under Punches": 'I'm catching up with myself!' Below are some things I am catching up on, myself, after recently launching a world premiere in West Virginia's capital city which was fabulous and exhausting to birth.
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On the way to a jam in the Appalachian outback, I pass the House of Prayer Full Gospel Church. Wait—are there 'partial gospel' churches out there?
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From where I recline in my living room right now in the West Virginia exurbs, I hear the tree frogs rasp outside on a starry night, clinging to the scaly bark and branches of sycamore, pine, and maple trees on our property. Time to think of something other than the news ...
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What does it take to get a book into the world? A little help from St. Joseph the Worker, plus inspiration from an Old World wine vat on a steep Calabrian hillside. That's a good start.
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It is a forgetting, for one. / Dissolution into physical bliss, / which, as the head is so troubled, / so often, feels like a blessing ...
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Sometimes, in order to self-soothe, I make short, odd videos. Or 'alt-videos,' as I describe this one below in the end credits, with footage from wanderings from nuclear power plants to Lake Erie last week.
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I am walking past the multi-culti shops and through the lively streets of Ann Arbor after dinner at an Ethiopian restaurant, living the good life. What's that flyer say? 'Open Mic Poetry'? And it's tonight?!
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A StoryIsTheThing Public Service Announcement: It's Booking Day in NYC today! That will mean much malevolence, much media blathering, much of way too much muchness. When you need to tear your eyes from the spectacle, here are four images to ponder.
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