Subway map memorized and tucked in rucksack — check.
Top of Converse sneakers smudged, T-shirt unrelated to any local destination but still slightly ironic, jeans narrow — check.
Walk with purpose, eyes ahead, resist upward gawking at buildings — check.
Boys ask if they can smoke cigarettes to fit in — no check.
Eye roll intact, leave your everyone-else-is-doing-it at the door […]
This is a painting by Edward Ruscha that hangs in the Hirshhorn Museum of Art in Washington D.C.
I was having a conversation with someone recently about how different the world is today. The introduction of cell phones and the internet are making big, fundamental differences in how we interact, think, communicate and socialize.
I don’t […]
As someone who, for the longest time, doubted the possibility of human reality, let alone authenticity, Jean Baudrillard was a voice to put order to my fragmented ideas. Of course, this is hugely ironic since Baudrillard himself would argue that my need to turn to someone else to congeal my thoughts is proof of […]
I’m getting on the subway to work. I’m raw from lack of sleep the night before, numb from not having had my coffee yet. Thank you, God, for giving us the iPod to insulate us from screeching wheels and mumbling passengers.
I consider shuffle play, but I realize the wrong track could utterly destroy me at […]
I couldn’t escape the feeling, growing up in northern New England, that life was happening elsewhere. Somewhere, surely, people drank espresso, had brilliant ideas, made art, circulated in galleries and concert halls, strolled boulevards crowded with boutiques and creatively-dressed bohemians, invented cocktails with clever names, and discussed the Meaning Of Life—but not in my […]