More Strange Treasures from the (Shoe Box) Vault
strange sounds from the underground 90s east village
Read Moreimagination experiments of a stardust yogini
strange sounds from the underground 90s east village
Read MoreMore music from another era – and I am transported to days past.
Read MoreLost tape from the shoe box vault! Some never-before released material from the Halfbreeds.
Read MoreMeanwhile, I was moseying along on my bicycle in this little mountain town – I found myself transported back to the east village – the food, the smells, the people, the clothes, the bookstores, the creative collaboration. Ah. The best of both worlds.
Read More. . . Fire was one of my greatest fears when I lived in the city. There is nothing like the sinking feeling of walking home and seeing firetrucks on your block, or a friend’s block. How quickly fire can spread on those tenement buildings pressed up against one another . . .
Read MoreSo the other day, I almost wept when I watched this video. I know, weird, it’s of a woman talking about lyric poetry and flarf in her kitchen. But she also talks about poetic forms as a response to the absurdity and insanity of our world, a way to cope with the craziness that we live in—and if a creative response isn’t a positive one, I don’t know what is.
Read More“Nighty night, little bunny rabbit.” And we all go to sleep, dream, drip. My heart is racing. I am going to forget about men altogether right now and just create create create. I am miserable and a fiend, a total hyperactive freak. And the Goddess is not coming out. The Goddess is shrinking under me. […]
Read MoreFascinating interview covering topics of homosexuality, women, writing, aging . . . Mr. Crisp used to have breakfast frequently at a restaurant I worked at in the East Village. He was very generous.
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