bookmark_borderCH – Miles Davis’ Face on a Vinyl Record – 09:20; 10 July, 2019

A vinyl record with a face painted on it affixed to a brick wall in Winterthur, Switzerland.

One of the first things that caught my eye as I walked from the Winterthur station to my hosts house was a record suspended on the brick facade of a building. Thinking back on it now. I can’t be certain whether it was at the base of a set of stairs which lead up to a second floor entrance or not. I’m pretty sure it was. What struck me as odd was not merely the fact that someone had nailed, or somehow affixed a vinyl record to the outer brick wall of this very industrial looking building, but that someone had painted a face on it. Nowadays, vinyl records are being produced with all manner of designs on them as a way to make the object of the record more appealing, more visually interesting. As if a large disc of plastic with microscopic bumps and grooves that makes music isn’t fascinating enough.          

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bookmark_borderPoem: When I Say I Love the Rain – 14 June, 2021

After a fairly unproductive day, I ate a small dinner outside the back of my apartment which is a small slab of concrete upon which there are two small tables, and three chairs. A neighbor was outside a few apartments away. He was on the phone and holding one of his young children. They both went inside shortly after I finished eating. Perhaps they knew the rain was coming.

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bookmark_borderPoem: I Saw A Missile Lying in a Bed

It has been difficult finding ways to cope with all that is going on in the world these days. After a long walk with my dog I sat down and tried to write. This poem, a work in progress, is all I could come up with. It is difficult to write about these things. About death and war and massacres, genocides, occupation. Difficult still when I have no experience with them. Do I even have any right to write about them?

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bookmark_borderA Bright Light in Bangalore – Young Photographer Seeks to Raise Funds for Metikuppe Village Amidst COVID Pandemic

Last night I was up late in bed reading Krista Tippett’s book Becoming Wise, a book I would prescribe to anyone feeling burned out, helpless, or otherwise depressed during these chaotic times.

After setting the book aside, I did what I’m sure many of us do but shouldn’t, I picked up my phone and jumped on social media. These days, with friends all throughout the world, it is the place where I receive most of my messages, a fact I am more than a little at odds with. This night, a friend of mine who lives in Bengalore shared a post from an account, with the accompanying message to “please see… and if possible, help out?”

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