How to stay curious (in your life and work) — and wipe out incuriosity
“To each his own, it’s all unknown/If dogs run free.” — Bob Dylan
Nothing was more pleasing during last summer’s horrific global pandemic than outdoor walks with my K-12 teacher friend Chris. Since he was off…
Looking back on my decade of loss during a global pandemic
Here’s the marching orders I got from Glenn, a fellow writer: “So you don’t want to write. And you say you don’t want to write about COVID-19. …
Fear is my gutterball.
It probably has been from a very early age.
And I sure as hell have been throwing my share of frames’ worth lately.
I’m coming out of a fog of holiday dread and confusion, worried about the state of the world as well as that of…
“Crusted with cheese, golden at the edges. The waiter placed it carefully in front of me, and I broke through the top layer with my spoon and filled it with warm oniony broth, catching bits of soaking bread. The smell took over the table, a warmingness. And because circumstances rarely…
“‘One thing,’ he said later, ‘it’s quick in space. Death. It’s over like that. You don’t linger. Most of the time you don’t even know it. You’re dead and that’s it.’”
— “The Rocket Man” by Ray Bradbury
THE LAST THING I ever thought I’d do was write about Ray…
I’d been expecting the news.
But it still comes as a shock: the death of a friend.
I’d been out the Saturday before Hallowe’en, slumming through my neighborhood thinking about buying a used hat. Winter was coming and I needed something to keep my head warm.
What are these things?
A collector knows them well. A collector thinks: “What do I have? What am I missing? What would complete my collection?”
I gravitate toward montage artists, collectors, discriminating selectors.
Hoarders, wastrels, bone rag bucket dippers — buh bye. I have no time for that.