Pilgrimage
Think of the time you flew into Albuquerque, the drive from the airport, flat thirsty red-brown land spreading in all […]
Think of the time you flew into Albuquerque, the drive from the airport, flat thirsty red-brown land spreading in all […]
breezy floral, dancing with color soft, silky, flows as I walk Easter Sunday and you always liked to get
Thanksgiving Day, 1983. Tom, Debra and I are sitting down to the meal she’s cooked when, she, a Lutheran minister,
In the street, I find an acoustic guitar, no name on it, so I decide it’s mine and learn some
v. sheets of the past can still be evoked and summoned, writes Deleuze. But the images that are drawn from