Old Salem Tavern Sneaking into my mom’s kitchen pantry, I marveled at the myriad pasta types. Our Italian-American family had so many varieties. Slyly, I’d lift several boxes, and once back in my bedroom/art studio, I would spread out my loot. Back then, my bedroom was my sanctuary, a place to draw and make buildingContinue reading “One-Night Stand: Walking Home Purple”
Tag Archives: Anarchist
Freedom of Speculation
The question in my mind is whether a natural inclination for speculation removes one to a place outside of the possibility for “doing”? At what point is the critical observer no longer able to engage in the very thing that he/she observes?
Twisted Preservation 