I am in my stony rented basement, illuminated by blue christmas lights. I stop reading Locke to read the short fictions from two issues of the New Yorker. One is about young lovers who adore sentences. I am very attracted to this. I happen to see a 1947 black and white [...]
-
‹ Home
-
Categories
-
Archives
- December 2008
- November 2008
- July 2008
- March 2008
- January 2008
- December 2007
- September 2007
- July 2007
- June 2007
- December 2006
- November 2006
- October 2006
- September 2006
- August 2006
- July 2006
- June 2006
- May 2006
- March 2006
- December 2005
- November 2005
- October 2005
- September 2005
- August 2005
- July 2005
- May 2005
- April 2005
- March 2005
- February 2005
- January 2005
- December 2004
- November 2004
- October 2004
- September 2004
- August 2004
- July 2004
- June 2004
- May 2004
- April 2004
- March 2004
- February 2004
- January 2004
- December 2003
- November 2003
- August 2003
- April 2003
- March 2003
- June 2002
Blogs
Not Blogs
-
RSS Feeds
-
Meta