The photographs of N.P. Thompson


soft tissue



drive-by lunch



and I don’t believe Dylan Farrow. No victim of abuse could be as gleefully antagonistic as she is, as pleased with herself and so disingenuously proud of her own violence. She exploits the all-too-easily exploitable “Me,Too” to her dubious advantage.

To Hell with Dylan Farrow’s stage-managed lies, and to Hell with the mob hysteria she cultivates. Chalamet, Sorvino, Gerwig, the equine Rebecca Hall, et al. should live to be rightfully embarrassed by their PC absurdities.

Why aren’t these counterfeit liberals protesting America’s Kremlin-owned “president” and the Russian agent’s enablers within a complicit Republican Congress? Is it less of a risk for young (or middle-aged) white hipsters to attack an octogenarian Jewish man whose aesthetic doesn’t compute with the social media on their smartphones? It isn’t much of a stretch to see Woody Allen’s detractors for what they are: racists.


how to stay in a fine hotel


For a peaceful Christmas…

Originally posted December 20, 2010

appearing nitely

Centuries Since the Day celebrates the return of The Santa Clones, a Yuletide tradition and installation piece by Chris Willis, on view for the holiday season at the corner of Broadway & Morrison.

shadowed return

except perhaps in spring

snow and the cathedral


from Endlessly Repeating Twentieth-Century Modernism (2007), by Josiah McElheny

open any door

In memory of P.J.S. on her sixty-first birthday.

foxglove hours

afternoon rise

not as they are

vase in the elevator

foxglove, Goose Hollow

Calla wave

“The calla lilies are in bloom again.
Such a strange flower…”

– Kate Hepburn, Stage Door

concealed mysteries

“Where are you going, and what do you wish?”

Originally posted in 2009.

lamps & leaves

puzzles & dreams, iv

Originally posted March 4, 2012

blue chan variation


Originally posted December 31, 2010

South Broadway


down there