My friend Felix Morelo moved back to NY to make his mark on the guerilla art scene. Check it out.

And I got three little sparrows tattooed on me instead…
I had breakfast with a friend who is a tattoo artist. All I wanted to do was sponge my over-easy eggs with wheat toast, and then this happened…

The “active voice” often eludes me.
So the “passive voice” weaves its way into my narratives.
Get it?
Anyway, I got a rejection letter today for my story, “She Works on Tuesdays.” The editors gave me some very detailed feedback, for which I am always quite grateful. But this time, the rejection actually confirmed what I was trying [...]

A few years ago my best friend Odin died. He had a heart attack at ten years of age. The morning it happened, I raced him to the fire station at 60mph through the residential streets. The paramedics couldn’t revive him.
I took his fat, furry body home and cried over it. Not wanting to let [...]

Standing on a snow-covered pond.
I leave the first and only footprints.
Validated. I wonder when they’ll melt.

I gathered a party to go check out the vagrant camp this past weekend. My dog, along with an old friend and his wolf-hybrid.
I figured two men and two dogs were enough to guarantee we wouldn’t be roped and raped by some drunken snowman.
We walked a mile through the woods to the camp, through the [...]

The snow made the maples willow.
Withered women draped in white.
Waiting for the winter procession to end.
Their last chance to say I love you.
Swallowed by the wind.

As I watched the State of the Union last night, my six year old was at my feet drawing in her sketchbook.
The President said: “It’s because of this spirit — this great decency and great strength — that I have never been more hopeful about America’s future than I am tonight.”
The audience applauded.
My little girl [...]

I had a friend forward me this video by some local artists. I love it. It sticks in your head all day.

“There’s something weird to me, daddy,” my six year old girl said.
“What’s that, baby?”
“The more I listen to directions in art. The worse it is.”
I smiled.
“When I don’t listen to directions, it’s good.”
I gave her a hug.
Another poor, yet talented, artist in the making.

Three political lessons from the 1943 Chicken Little Cartoon:
1) To influence the masses, aim first at the least intelligent.
2) Undermine the faith of the masses in their leaders.
3) By the use of flattery, insignificant people can be made to look upon themselves as born leaders.

I trailblazed through the woods today, looking for the bald eagles that migrate here each Winter. There was only one bird so far, and he flew away before I could snap a picture. So I decide to investigate the campsite I stumbled upon a few weeks ago. At that time, I had determined it to [...]

But Santa Clause is still a great and magical con.

Sometimes the universe is an embryo.

The river seems more alive in the winter. The eagles are on their way. And the beavers have been hard at work.
Seeing how efficiently they can peel a tree, I hold my arms in a little closer, and heed the warning of their angry, slapping tails.

Walking in the park this week, I came across a wounded birch tree.
Perhaps Mother Nature has finally surrendered.

Walking my dog in the woods is therapeutic. Especially when we’re trailblazing along the river. I find something new each trip. A beaver slapping the water with his tail. A dead duck laying in an angelic pose. Baby dolls hanging from nooses in the trees. Or a lone flower, colored a shade of purple I’ve [...]

Some people feel writing it as “x-mas” is sacrilegious.
I say, lets embrace and promote the abbreviation.
Just like in Algebra, the X can be a variable.
Then everyone can celebrate it as a time of love, charity and goodwill…