When the Sopranos premiered, I was 20, not fist pumping in the dark media room of my large house in Greenwich. My gaze was deadlocked on this man of violence. I knew men of violence kinda secondhand kinda not. Genetics is weird. When my sister sees things she hears music. When I hear music I […]
I’ve been struggling with creativity lately. Something is blocking not the ideas but the execution. Self-doubt. I wrote a poem about index cards last month. One of its lines: when the index cards come out my unease loses a little bit of its doubt Last week I wrote about art (poetry). For the 17 years […]
Exhibition 1874 