I Remember Magic

I am driving home from work in the rain. The traffic is heavy and I am upset. Not at anything in particular, just a strange combination of angry-sad, non-focused malaise. I have a feeling of something wrong, there is something missing. And the rain is coming down and I can’t see and that jackass in

What Do You Want to Be When You Grow Up?

It is a question we’ve all been asked at least once at some point in our childhood. And the answer, at least for me, would change depending on the time and place or the frame of mind I was in. I can remember most of the answers I gave and the reasons behind them for

Painting Movement: Jackson Pollock: Autumn Rhythm (Number 30)

Back when I was in High school I took an art history class where we studied the life and works of artists from the Renaissance to the modern period. I had by this time already fancied myself an artist and had already figured out what was good art and what was not. Modern Art,

A Nothing Day: Comic Books, Video Games & Graveyards

I wheeled the bike from the garage and took a deep breath. It was the start of the lull week that happened every summer. The week when every kid I knew was off at camp and I was on my own. Every year the neighborhood children would be shipped off to some 7 day secluded

Otherworldly Reflection: MC Escher’s Puddle

When I was in high school I was a hippie. Not a real hippie, this was the 80s, real hippies didn’t exist anymore. No, I was a pseudo-hippie, a neo-hippie, a wannabe-hippie. I wore tie-dyed t-shirts and went to Grateful Dead shows, I smoked pot and played hacky-sack, I read the beat poets and

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