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A Beautiful Industrial Mess
November 2023
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Number Seventy Eight
November 2023
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Return To Bleecker Playground
In the soft embrace of nostalgia, I wandered back to the streets of my youth, my footsteps retracing paths worn by the innocent glee of my childhood. I returned to Bleecker Playground, where decades had folded into mere whispers of time, I stood, silent, recalling memories that seemed as if they came from another lifetime in some forgotten dream. The carousel of life had continued on, seemingly without me, reflected in the vibrant eyes of the children around me—carbon copies of my own young, curious self. They were radiant with the unbridled joy of life, their hearts pulsating with dreams yet to unfold, just as mine did, now forty-some years…
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Streets And Shops
November 2023
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Balloon Animals
November 2023
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The Art Of The Laugh
November 2023
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The Evolution Of My Artistic Self
Recently, it occurred to me that there is an artist nesting inside everyone. Within me, this artist has taken many forms, a metamorphosis that has shaped not only my work but also who I am. My journey in artistic expression began with prose – words were my initial muse. They danced from my mind to the paper with a grace I could never replicate in the physical world. They were my partners in the intimate tango of storytelling. Each sentence was a step, each paragraph a pivot, turning my inner monologue into a dance I could share. But, as with all first loves, my relationship with prose evolved. It was…
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I Am The Queen Of Introspection
Lying in the quiet of the night, I’m often reminded of a line from a classic Simon and Garfunkel song, “The Sounds Of Silence”, “Hello darkness, my old friend.” It’s during these silent moments that I converse with myself, navigating the intricate pathways of my thoughts, feelings, and emotions. This is my realm. I am the queen of introspection. Life has thrown its fair share of curveballs, and with each experience, I’ve taken a step back to understand it, to see how it fits into the bigger picture of my journey. Many may see this as overthinking or overanalyzing, but for me, it’s my way of connecting the dots. As…
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The Midnight Owl’s Unspoken Story
In a forest swathed in the velvety embrace of the night, an enigma called the Midnight Owl reigned. This owl, with plumage as dark as the inky black sky and eyes that shimmered like a nebula, was no ordinary creature. It was said that this owl knew every secret, every whisper of the trees, every heartache of the beasts, and every dream of the stars. The Midnight Owl was a keeper of stories, a guardian of memories, and an observer of all things under the night’s canopy. Yet, there was one tale that the owl didn’t know: the story of you. Every night, when the world lay blanketed in silence,…
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Of Cakes And Conspiracies
The knife used to cut the cake of celebration is the same one that inevitably gets used to stab one in the back, is an idea that recently came to me, harsh as a proverb, and laced with the kind of wisdom that is usually earned through a painful sequence of experiences. It wasn’t until the undulating waves of life had crashed upon my shores a few more times that I truly understood its depth, its reality, and its almost predestined inevitability. I recall the early days of my ambitious youth, days colored with the hues of success and nights scented with the fragrance of victory. Those were the times…
