Tuesday, October 31, 2023
Sunday, October 29, 2023
Saturday, October 28, 2023
Near Dark
October 1963 ~ on the cusp of the Unspeakable. World Series Game One: the L.A. Dodgers (BOO!) vs. the New York Yankees (BOO!!), Sandy Koufax vs. Whitey Ford, Ernie Harwell and Joe Garagiola, funny and sweet radio spots, lots of smoking and drinking and lots more good cheer.
They've been saying around here that Camelot was a myth. The heck it was.
Friday, October 27, 2023
Heroes and Pigs
Thursday, October 26, 2023
Kristallnacht??
Wednesday, October 25, 2023
Monday, October 23, 2023
Sunday, October 22, 2023
Thursday, October 19, 2023
Tuesday, October 17, 2023
Tuesday, October 10, 2023
Monday, October 9, 2023
Friday, October 6, 2023
Are You an Acceptable?
Tuesday, October 3, 2023
Sunday, October 1, 2023
October
If one would ask how the monumental can be tender, October in New York City is still the answer. The city then recalls us to the brutal and to the awesome. Her wood and asphalt and brick skin becomes luminous in any pale light ~ it also reflects the shadow of the rock: New York in such shadow on a sunny day, the glass of her eyes has the blue of the sea. Days and nights slow down, people seem readier to recognize others, before the Transfiguration of Christmas.
New York October, when the magnificent blue sky glows like sapphire, after the sun sets. Streams and ponds and lakes of water flash blue. Great lines of silver-grey poplars rise and make avenues ~ or airy grey quadrangles ~ across the Park, their top boughs spangled with gold-and-green leaf. Sometimes gold-and-red, a patterning. A bigness ~ and nothing to restrain the romantic spirit. . .