spain in black and white.

I find the rolls of film in a desk drawer. I’ve been moving around a lot- New York to Connecticut to Scotland to Los Angeles- and things are resurfacing. Lost things are being found. Two rolls of black and white film. I think they’re both from Edinburgh and so I’m not in a rush to […]

the galleys arrive.

Now for the moment things appear to be going very badly with me, and this has been so for a considerable time already, and may continue so in the future for a while; but after everything has seemed to go wrong, there will perhaps come a time when things will go right. I do not […]

hum.

  This weekend passed too quickly, a rush of good, happy people and guitar music and lots of food and drinks and a wedding that stretched into the night under a canopy of Christmas lights and photo booth portraits. S and I drove up on Friday afternoon, crawling our way through long-weekend traffic on the […]

the cover.

What a long strange journey: writing a book. In the past two years I’ve moved out of New York City, back to Connecticut, over to Scotland, back and forth to Los Angeles, stayed in Napa Valley and San Francisco and driven through Maryland and landed for a week in Jamaica, toured London in a whirlwind […]

ermines.

I wake up from a strange dream. There’s a mattress covered in blood, and I check my own bed to make sure I wasn’t murdered in my sleep. In the dream, an old woman was stabbed. For three nights she had hallucinations, black ermines wrapped around her throat, clawing her skin. I was the only […]