I stand atop the Sand Dunes at the foot of the Sangre de Cristo, the blood of Christ, my back to the wind. The sand swirls around me, my pockets fill with it, and my feet sink in it till I am buried up to my ankles. There are grains of sand in my teeth
Once, a long time ago, I stood in the sky far above the world. The observation deck of the World Trade Center was more than 1000 feet high. The windows were wide, floor-to-ceiling glass. The first thing I did was press my nose against it, my hands beside my face, fingers splayed wide. I looked
Christmas Day, 1999. Twenty years ago. Was I at home in New York, a gentle snow falling outside, while inside blazed a warm fire in the fireplace, with presents under the Christmas tree that my children would soon open with squeals of joy? No I was not. I was in a tent, by myself,
I sat for a long time at the bar. I tried to chat with Stephen, it was too busy. I wandered to the buffet table then through the main dining room, my eye caught the front door and I made my way toward it. I felt a tug at my sleeve as a slid past
So, 2020 was a bit of a challenge. As I have already talked about (here and here) 2020 was not the best time I ever had. On a personal level, it was – to use a technical term - a bit shite. And on a world situation level, it was – again technical term –
And so it goes. 2020 continues its endless slog into the dark night of the soul that has been thrust upon us by the ruthlessness of nature, the cruelty of fate, and the incompetence of man. I would say it's unprecedented but by this point, so many truly strange and bizarre things have happened I’m
So…2020 has been a clusterfuck so far, huh? Before I continue I feel I should point out that when I first contemplated writing this post I had conceived of it as being an eloquent, lyrical, almost poetic treatise on expectation vs reality. I had the notion of reaching rhetorical heights that were both moving and
We've been gone for a while but now we are back to possibly help you out in a time of uncertainty. We are currently deep into quarantine and it looks as if we are in store for at least another month, possibly more - and as many people at this point may be getting to
Guest Post by David Hicks Spring is traditionally a time of new beginnings, and this spring is no different. But oh, what a difference. This spring, new beginnings are tied to new endings—the ending of so many lives, the ending of our way of life. It is, nonetheless, a new beginning. Nature hasn’t died,
A guest post by David Hicks I was in Prague on a Fulbright scholarship, teaching at the venerable Charles University and living in the Letna/Holesovice neighborhood called Prague 7. My first month, February, was gray and rainy, and therefore productive: I finished a novel and taught my classes in the beautiful Faculty of Arts building
