A portfolio of work
Up the hill, after the center of Widcombe and the train station and the canal crossing, is the house that will outlive me and all my old friends. There was no canonical order to the history of careless nights spent in the cheapest public houses of old Bath. As we dug into the now-extinct culture … Continue reading Prior Park
I’m looking in from the road on a misty spring night at the Cape Cod house I grew up in. It is half past five in the morning. The ancient white farmhouse, nearly as old as the country itself, stands renovated by its new owners. I can see the glow of the kitchen windows … Continue reading Dreaming at the Tulip Hotel
When the first explorers discovered the glacier covered archipelago about 1,000 miles above Norway called Svalbard, the land probably appeared slowly from the grey arctic backdrop, imposing mountains silhouetted like a Lovecraftian alien planet. For me, Svalbard came suddenly into view from an ever-lightening night sky as my plane traveled further North. The dark of … Continue reading A Land of Geology: Part 1
The day I received my Hermes Rocket in the mail, I opened it in the five minutes I had before my Medieval Romance class was due to begin. My professor, a lovely woman in her mid 60s with a German Shepard named Bodo constantly in tow, recognized the brand immediately, and then promptly corrected my … Continue reading Bartleby’s Machines: Hermes Rocket/ Hermes Baby Typewriter Review
Your letter in the mail is the overdone romantic comedy played repeatedly on the Betamax player of my brain. I keep rewinding and repeating the moments, until the wow and flutter distort the memory of when I first pulled apart the glued security seal. In manufactured magnetic static, what you wrote would be the opposite … Continue reading Betamax
My father Robert grew up in Shaker Heights outside of Cleveland Ohio. I have been to the house where he grew up numerous times to vast my grandparents, his mother, and his step father Terry. The house itself is three stories tall, with old lighting and bathroom fixtures from the 1930’s. The driveway. Which leads … Continue reading Spirit Reports Chapter 8: Robert
I think my friend James was born in the wrong time in history. He and his violin were made for the palaces of the Habsburgs as they stood before the Great War. He was meant for the world described by Winston Churchill in the opening passages of his book. “The World Crisis”, when he wrote, … Continue reading Spirit Reports Chapter 7: James
