the world & words of a new york city writer

gretchen is a writer in new york city

Tag: new york city (page 68 of 72)

wandering, writing, wishing

I hit the streets today…

I intended on putting serious thought into figuring out why I can’t seem to find my favorite sort of happiness anywhere else besides New York City.

Sometimes I think too much, I suppose everyone does to a degree. However, when you’re a Writer, and all you do is constantly consider words and expression… I think your brains can get out of control in their own special way. No more or less than anyone else… it’s just a different sort of cognitive anarchy. Continue reading

the sort that makes your pupils dilate.

He’s the sort of character that makes your pupils dilate. My black hole gaze is tracing the shift of his shoulders and sway of his hips as his expression of nearness rapidly unveils. Continue reading

zombie flicking, work? and, naturally, poetry.

Dear blog family

I hope you dig today’s snapshots from the forthcoming zombie flick… Continue reading

zombies, deliciousness, late new york nights

I have been running and playing for hours blog family. There is much I have to share but the blocks of north, south, east, west, him, her, them, etc. sometimes make it tricky. However… we’ve got a movie to shoot in five hours. Continue reading

N.F.A is the new F.Y.I… ps. NYC!!!!

I’m here I’m HERE!!! And FYI… totally NFA…

Not fucking around.


After a very long flight that involved sitting next to a Scientologist bikey from Western Australia who ended up giving me a koala in parting (long story…) I made it!

I literally danced out of JFK airport to an 8pm greeting of daylight savings (which Queensland, AUS still refuses to invent) and the embrace of a balmy atmosphere filled with rattling subway trains and island accents.

I am in the hills of Connecticut for a day… then it’s on.

So on…

Apparently I got here just in time because my mother fractured her knee cap yesterday toddling around and my help will be handy. I’m very helpful you know… I immediately explained to her that the bottle of Vicodin she picked up from the chemist for two bucks and change has a street value of around eighty… so if her and my father want to earn a little cash on the side during their retirement, now might be the time.

I bloody love being back… and I’ve only been here three hours.

Something I wrote above the clouds:

an ode to the light in your eyes

Classical music in the sky… sings… you…
My heated amore. Water holding sun.
Revealing. Myself. Without any clues.
My desire, a web. Cautiously spun.
Salt water cleanse. Purification. Soul.
Silent admiration. Attempt. Hold back.
Now. I must ask. Do you often feel whole?
I believe. Once chance. To resolve your lack…
Sharing devotion in swirls of blue ink.
Syllables. Sensations. You in my dreams.
Consumption of mind. Much deeper than think.
Understand my essence disguised as bold.
An unspoken invite, felt and untold.

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