hic vigilans somniat
I find myself on a tour of a city somewhere in Eastern Europe. It is a dank, darkly industrial place — all smokestacks and ornate spires, brick walls stained with soot. Tagging along with a friend from junior high — he has made this trip many times before — I wander through the streets and shops, taking pictures as I go...… Continue reading eastern promises
[This is directly transcribed, without changes or edits, from a journal entry dated June 16th, 1998] ...and, somehow, in my dreams I hear a huge crash — metal and glass — ignoring it, I dream on... ...a flickering light from outside — flash of orange through the blinds — send me up to the window, women’s voices, laughing and talking . .… Continue reading flames, new and old