Unable to focus; multi-sensory overload becomes a strategy: layers of sound: ocean waves beneath Pink Floyd under Ms. Pacman eating dots while chasing ghosts because Tetris couldn’t stabilize you this time and tab after tab after tab remains open to another then another and without no end to exhausting … Continue reading
Tag Archives: Relationships
Commentary / Elizabeth Bishop / Essay / Fish-herring / I love you. / poetry / Relationships / Uncategorized / William Shakespeare
On Saying “I Love You”
“I Love You.” F.P.; Am Ostbahnhof. Creative Commons License, Flickr. A common phrase extolling emotional urgency due to the “attractive qualities” of another; “deep affection”; a conveyance of “benevolent attachment” and “fondness.” [1] To say “I love” is also an exaggeration of the “you” or any detachable noun or pronoun: I love you! I love … Continue reading
Art / Commentary / discussion / Essay / Relationships / Uncategorized
At Home with the Animals: Wood Block Paintings by Charles Smith
I had the pleasure of spending an exorbitant amount of time in one of my favorite used bookstores. Grey Matter is nestled just beyond the intersection of MA-9 and “the bridge.” Turn down East Street and you’ll find, hidden under the water tower, one of the best bookstores in Massachusetts. I was looking in the … Continue reading
Art / Essay / Get Out (2017) / Photography / Relationships / Variety (1983)
At the Movies
You argue, fight over nothing because “nothing” is unimportant. You tell your son, I’m going to the movies. He says, Take me with you. You say, I can’t. You exit through the kitchen door, your husband follows you out to the driveway. You exchange a continuous verbal shit storm. Nan (Nan Goldin) tells her friend … Continue reading
Art / Essay / Grief / Lovers / Photography / Sadness / Susan Sontag / Uncategorized
On Sadness
Nude Woman and Grief by x1klima CEMETERIE, Engesohde, Hannover, Germany,Sony a7R, Sonar FE 55mm F1.8 ZA. Flickr. Creative Commons License. The cab arrived shortly after 10:30 PM. I’ve never seen an airport so desolate. The security checkpoint does not open until midnight. I sit on my duffel bag, knees questioning the ceiling; for a moment I consider … Continue reading
scribblehysteria 