Driving between the Meadowbrook and Wantagh Parkways on Hempstead Turnpike this past weekend, I was amazed at the turnover in commercial real estate between those two roads. One stretch in particular, from the Wantagh Parkway to Bette Road on the north side of the street, stuck out. Everything single building along this stretch was different […]
By now, if you haven’t been to Waxy.org and seen the various videos of a geeky student pretending to be a jedi, you are seriously out of the loop and missing out on some serious laughs. Click here to get all the info you could ever need about the Star Wars kid, a.k.a. Ghyslain.
Some complain that e-mail is impersonal–that your contact with me, during the e-mail phase of our relationship, was mediated by wires and screens and cables. Some would say that’s not as good as conversing face-to-face. And yet our seeing of things is always mediated by corneas, retinas, optic nerves, and some neural machinery that takes […]
From the ruins, lonely & as inexplicable as the sphinx, rose the Empire State Building. And just as it had been a tradition of mine to climb to the plaza roof to take leave of the beautiful city, extending as far as the eyes could reach, so now I went to the roof of the […]
There are many ways that sadness has infused my daily life over the past few years. Today’s disaster, the explosion of the Space Shuttle Columbia on re-entry, has added yet another splash of sadness to my life. Today, intellect and innovation were destroyed 39 miles above the earth. Bright, brave and brilliant men and women […]
I need justification and validation. I need diplomas and certificates. I need grades and reports. I need finding and awards. I need a paper trail of achievement. I need proof I was here.
Each day I wake up and feel different. Today I feel young. This is something that happens fairly often. Maybe it’s my height. I am not tall, though I am not very short either. I am not short enough to necessitate the use of creative camera tricks to make me look taller, something that is […]
I remembered last night with brutal clarity why I stopped writing. On a stage at an open mic night stood writer after writer, each speaking to a generally supportive yet ambivalent crowd. A number of things leapt out at me as they recited their wares.
An image transmits a tremendous amount of data to the individual. Language parses that data out into a coherent stream. Language is the program that crunches and churns away generating reports in the middle of the night. Language creates art with a viewpoint; it is an act of sub-creation by its mere existence.
It is amazing that I am not even 26 and I am constantly feeling “old.”