NYC Journal 77, and a poem

Facing the Music by Paul Auster Blue.  And within that blue a feeling of green, the gray blocks of clouds buttressed against air, as if in the idea of rain the eye could master the speech of any given moment on earth.  Call it the sky.  And so to describe whatever it is we seem, as if it is nothing but the idea of something we had lost within.  for we can begin to remember the hard earth, the flint reflecting stars, the undulating oaks... Read More

NYC Journal 73

In the ages to come man may be able to predict, perhaps even to control, the wayward courses of the winds and clouds, but hardly will his puny hands have strength to speed afresh our slackening planet in its orbit or rekindle the dying fire of the sun. Yet the philosopher who trembles at the idea of such distant catastrophes may console himself by reflecting that these gloomy apprehensions, like the earth and the sun themselves, are only part of... Read More

NYC Journal Part 12

photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007 photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007 photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007 photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007 photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007 photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007 photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007  Read More