Old typewriters make me sad. They remind me of my late grandfather, the one from Mexico. When he was alive, he used to send me typewritten letters, because he had Parkinson's Disease, and he didn't have the motor-skills to write the letters by hand. He'd spend hours rocking over his ancient typewriter, his tongue sticking out of his mouth, ( Read more... )

When the lights and Tv went off last night, there was a moment of silence in the pitch black house. And then my voice rang out, "Eva, did you save?" There was another couple of seconds of quiet, and then my sister replied, "Yeah, only lost the last bit ( Read more... )

Tonight as I was walking home from work, I walked past a Chinese Opera in progress. I have always loved wayangs. They've always fascinated me, the way light blasts from the stage into the night like a huge 3 dimensional TV. The high nasal wailing and the music, so lilting and brassy at the same time. And the fact that if you walk past the bored, ( Read more... )