an image diary

"And if he left off dreaming about you, where do you suppose you'd be? ... You'd be nowhere. Why, you're only a sort of thing in his dream! If that there King was to wake you'd go out -- bang! -- just like a candle!"

"Hush! You'll be waking him, I'm afraid, if you make so much noise."

"Well it's no use your talking about waking him when you're only one of the things in his dream. You know very well you're not real."

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

. .

Don't miss Gabe's lovely photonarrative of the Knox Million Poems Show. Thanks so much, you.


You're looking at a thing that doesn't exist anymore. Karen and I went back to Chambers Street so I could show her the red room, but the lot had been cleaned out, some of the building demolished. Strange to have photographed the place over weeks, to have planned to go back at some point when I might be better at seeing it, framing it, and to have it all but disappear. What kind of reality are photographs?


Thank you, Jake. I'm learning from you.


Predictable crash: struggling this morning to get to the office to meet with students and do all the work I couldn't get to this weekend with the Knox Million Poems event. I'm down with a sore throat and a fever that started the night before last and the weather has settled into the cold monotone gray I think is the color of November. What happened to fall?


"and what is the use of a book...without pictures or conversations?"

[contact me:]

what o'clock it is


live flowers