There was a poetry reading Thursday evening. It caught my eye because it was sponsored by an organization called, "The Route 9 Literary Collective", a reference to the four-lane highway that carries one to and from Hartford and Old Saybrook and which is visible from the balcony of my studio in Middletown, It's also th quickest way to get to New ( Read more... )

I finished The Book. It ends on a high note of spirituality. But, as I was just saying, not before you get a heaping, helping dose of Bing and Colette and Crosby and The Mysterious Stranger. At any moment, I thought I might be reading a snippet about myself, the events taking place seemed so familiar as was the voice describing them. Along the way ( Read more... )

Bing has written a book. He gave a Gray Lounge presentation two Sundays ago and just about everyone stood in line to purchase a copy and have Bing sign it. Ostensibly, it was about the power of prayer and focused on the two weeks he spent in the hospital two years ago, a moment I captured as it unfolded from my own selfish point of view Read more... )

It was two days away from Valentine's Day and despite the languishing state of my love life I had no hard feelings about it.  My weekly LGBTQ support group postponed its phone conference for the week.  Three of the five of us are in relationships. Sis was the only person I've gotten a card from. My hopes spiked upwards when only a few people in ( Read more... )