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Well, perhaps that header is a bit of a tease. I am exhausted from typing and phonecalls and merely want to say hello and goodbye and give an update to those who might expect such things. I've moved back to the last place on earth I ever thought I'd come back to for longer than a holiday (seriously, five to ten days maximum...) because my mother ( Read more... )

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The lover who folds a flower,
modular rose or columbine

will know the count of hairs
in your eyebrow,

a weave of lines praising
order to the tangled world,

will open and close your limbs
like fans edged in gold leaf,

trace the calyx of your mouth,
transcribe the seams of your body

into languages bees dance,
hexagonal maps of honey.

-Moby

I will begin by saying, ordinarily I am not ornery. We had a big art opening that became a huge orgiastic bash with too much sparks - at least it was free - but ultimately awesome because I slept inside an enormous burlap balloon. A fight and a fire erupted around an awful painting bought on Bowery or something by some dude who liked to say what ( Read more... )