artist. style.

Throughout the years I've been ranting words in the realm of FollowMeToNYC, Artist and Style have been two significant themes. When I tell people I'm a Writer, it depends on the circumstance as to what type of writing we talk about. From what's happening on Wall Street to whatever grit spilt from my pen that day. As a Writer, I'm always keen to talk about words and expression - what I'm working on or might have read. As an Artist, I've learned,...

bloody tags

I had to take Fronkles to the vet a few weeks ago, because something was off. When the vet asked what the issue was, I replied, "I'm not sure, but I reckon he's been eating the bloody garbage." The vet, with a straight face looked at me and said, "What kind of blood was it?" And I was like, "Wow." Fortunately, Fronkles is all good. I probably won't go back to that vet. Even though it's the eighth one I've seen around midtown. For those of you...

another friend’s loss. again.

Recently I made a friend who had a parent pass closely following our first encounter. Nothing hurts more than losing what we hold most sacred. I have't really stopped thinking of this person who I love during such a sad time. I spoke with one of my favorite people earlier today about my lack of phone and slow, albeit gracious, embrace of anti screen-ville. We exchanged "I love you" and plans... I felt myself coming down with a cold so I worked...

day 13. “two”.

Two (an excerpt) “We kiss in Sperlonga,” he promises. “…my voice is F flat, it’s terrible. I know this.” “I only dream of you,” I tell him. “Every night. Every night, I dream of your touch.” “Every dream, I feel your touch.” He’s been in Italy for two weeks and we’ve been together two months and there have been two other humans in my life to turn my head. But… nothing like this. When his voice touches the...
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