Rothko

My love she speaks like silence,Without ideals or violence,She doesn’t have to say she’s faithful,Yet she’s true, like ice, like fire. — Bob Dylan, “Love Minus Zero/No Limit” There’s a story I posted on Facebook from The Guardian about the Rothko Chapel, an oasis of magnificence in the middle of Houston. Typically (for a British…

North Carolina Redux

Susan’s got her pictures on-line from the Three Mothers reunion in North Carolina back in July. Stop by and see all the lovely fun we had. Yes, there’s even a picture or two of me (recognizably so in two of them, not so much in a third because I’m perched far out on the rocks…

Time for Fresh Ink

Yes, yes — finished the novel last night. Huzzah and trumpet’s blat. Sure, it’s only a first draft, but that’s the hard part. Revision is a puzzle with parameters set; one needs only patience. The first draft requires using both hands to dig in the grey matter, squish the stuff through your fingers, poke around…

Not a bit like The Shining

No, no, not at all — sure, I’ll be spending a week in the “Snowshoe Capital of the World” in a rambling country farmhouse, writing and confusing the cat, Hamilton. There’s no reason to connect this to the tragic events in the Overlook. It’s going to be a scream — of laughter! And there’s nothing…

Home Again

Here’s Squeak and Stinky in a typical pose at Susan’s in front of the gigantor tv screen. But I’m back home again to the rain and the warm weather that seems to be constant across the Eastern seaboard. When we were on the beach at Fort Macon Thursday, a big storm blew up — enhancing…

It’s a Robot! Playing Guitar!

The Tornadoes’ “The Robot” — another gem from the great folks at Bedazzled, where they feature brilliant things like early Gen X video and a gazillion Harry Nilsson videos and music. Beautiful! Off to the library tonight — it should be fun.

SF/PCA Recap Redux

Things appear out of order, as memory dictates. Let me backtrack to lunch with the Comics Area folks before I jump back to Saturday. The lunch is always equal parts fun and irritation, as all events involving large groups are. The Hatfields — after many trials — arrived in time for lunch, but ended up…

Something in the Eyre

During my week of solitude, I re-read Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre in the handsome illustrated version beautifully rendered by Dame Darcy. It’s been ages since I last read it and months since a friend went off on a long rant about how he hated Jane. I found myself instantly captivated by the iconoclastic rebel, Jane….

Into the Woods

I’m off today to Still Point where I have reserved a cabin in the woods to do some writing and recharging. I am allowing myself the possibility of writing nothing at all; I know I wasted a lot of time at the beginning of my first writers colony experience worrying about writing — and consequently,…

A Fine Day Out

I went on a retreat yesterday with a bunch of friends to nearby sanctuary called Universal Pathways, run by a fabulous woman named Mary Browne. Mary and her husband had lived on a sheep farm for over forty years; but in recent years they have sold the sheep and converted the land (and a few…