Mirrors in metal, and the masked Mirror of mahogany that in its mist Of a red twilight hazes The face that is gazed on as it gazes. Jorge Luis Borges, MIRRORS Light poured through those high windows like it had somewhere to be, turning everything gold, everything impossible. The mirrors, smudged, honest and ancient, caught […]
Continue Reading →My only love sprung from my only hate! Too early seen unknown, and known too late! Prodigious birth of love it is to me, That I must love a loathed enemy. Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, 1.5 We’re all so fucking scared of being earnest that we’ve turned every production into a knowing wink, a deconstructed […]
Continue Reading →
I get it. They did what they always do, what they’ve been doing to everything worth a damn since some MBA sociopath figured out you could monetize nostalgia and sell it back as “progress.” They took something old, something with actual soul (remember soul?), something that had earned every water stain, every crack in its […]
Continue Reading →
July 10th, 2016. 1:08 in the afternoon. Pillar Point. Seventy two degrees, California sun beating down, the beach looking out at Mavericks, that legendary, bone crushing surf break where waves rise up like mountains and gods go to die, and we’re about to do something beautifully, almost stupidly ambitious: perform what’s left of a play […]
Continue Reading →
Look at her. Lindsey sitting there in that fourth frame like she’s the only thing holding the world together, like she’s the reason the wind bothers to blow across that grass. You know what I’m talking about, that particular quality certain people have where they don’t just occupy space, they complete it. The Halprins knew. […]
Continue Reading →
“Notes to myself on beginning a painting” by Richard Diebenkorn 1. Attempt what is not certain. Certainty may or may not come later. It may then be a valuable delusion. 2. The pretty, initial position which falls short of completeness is not to be valued – except as a stimulus for further moves. 3. DO […]
Continue Reading →Backstage Nausicaä: in wildflowers for Sophocles tragedy at Pillar Point… Here, in the weeds behind the curtain, where ancient Greek tragedy meets California wildflowers. Judy moving through that grass like she’s already halfway to Phaeacia, This is what you never see: the in-between, the breath before the dive. The wildflowers don’t give a shit about […]
Continue Reading →