Wednesday, November 20, 2013


Shimmy and shake through the leaf-strewn graveyard, the only soul alive. Pop and lock as the sunrise knocks.

The hip is starting to go. Hold on hip!

Such a meditation this morning. The ego letting go, slowly but surely. The mind sharpened. 

Dreamt last night I was watching Maxfield Parrish movies with Will. Then woke up to create the movie.

Monday, November 18, 2013


Sometimes it doesn't feel like a "post" unless something novel happens worth reporting about. In this case I'm reporting about THAT.

"On that note, everyone move your feet, like you feel something, like you're alive" -On The Road

This morning the new Terrasonic and Juana Molina.

Sunday, November 17, 2013


Little dance down Roosevelt toward Flushing. Grinding slowly turns into gliding Thanks to the excellent dj skills of 99 & Barry. 

Today went to The Cloisters to hear Janet Cardiff's piece 40 Part Motet. Sublime. Amazing how something with no narrative content can make you cry. And everyone else too. Totally transforming. Each voice having a unique beauty. And then the overarching whole! 

Friday, November 15, 2013


This morning I could feel anger burning off me in the dance like a pile of leaves on fire in the fall. I gave myself extra time for this process and I needed it. 

The 99 & Barry show from 11/1/13, which is archived on KGNU, is BEAUTIFUL. Check it out.

also beautiful are these people:


The dance was only doing it. I was only doing the dance. But several people decayed beautifully before me, in front of my eyes. I lived them then, for a long second.

Today I went to the Bronx zoo with the girls and saw giraffes and monkeys.

On the way there Sofia said, "broccoli is Spanish for Brooklyn."

She also said Honeywell was her favorite street. ??? Where'd you get Honeywell I asked her?

She didn't know.

But when we got to the zoo we saw an actual Honeywell Street across from the park.

Later I was telling this to Melissa Ivey. I said it was freaky and what did it mean? Then remembered that Melissa had earlier this afternoon said she really loved honey, really loved a lot of it in her tea. She loves her honey well.

I explained my theory to her about the fourth dimension, the bending of all the angles of space together, all the corners of the cube matched up with the other corners. Kind of like putting the round peg in a square hole.

When I passed Honeywell St. the angles folded together. I didn't know why until catching the third angle, Mel's love of honey. Honey makes you well is the moral of this story.

Then when leaving the park I left the double stroller behind, packed up the girls and just left it there on the side of the road. When I called the zoo the manager said it was gone. Oh no! I felt terrible.

I asked Melissa later why I might have forgotten the stroller and she said maybe it went to a family that really needed it. Of course. And this isn't even a stretch.

I felt much better about it.

Then Mel and I went to see Ron Padgett read at St. Mark's in the Bowery. It was a fantastic reading. But even more fantastic was that afterward Arlo Quint gave me a hard-back copy of Ron's Toujours l'amour AND The Collected Writing of Joe Brainard. I couldn't believe it. What a generous gift.

Melissa pointed out that maybe it was the universe giving back for use of the stroller.

This is like wearing 4D glasses.

Finally, after the reading, on the way back to Queens we met up with our girl Amma.

What a ruse!

Sunday, November 10, 2013


Gorgeous fall morning, fantastic set by 99 & Barry, some fancy footwork, good images, you know, the whole thing, the apex of the flight.

Thursday, November 7, 2013


Velvet Underground's "1969" is such perfect walking and dancing music. And it is as old as I am.

Some good shots this morning. Meditations on a tomato.

Greatest hair style ever
I just want to tickle this woman. Or maybe just hug her.

Wednesday, November 6, 2013


I read a poignant New Yorker piece by Patti Smith about Mourning Lou Reed. She said something that delighted me:

"I met Lou at Max’s Kansas City in 1970. The Velvet Underground played two sets a night for several weeks that summer. The critic and scholar Donald Lyons was shocked that I had never seen them, and he escorted me upstairs for the second set of their first night. I loved to dance, and you could dance for hours to the music of the Velvet Underground. A dissonant surf doo-wop drone allowing you to move very fast or very slow. It was my late and revelatory introduction to “Sister Ray.”
Within a few years, in that same room upstairs at Max’s, Lenny Kaye, Richard Sohl, and I presented our own land of a thousand dances."


That's what I'm creating here. Plus one.

The Velvet Underground are terrific to dance to, it's true. I think I will tomorrow.

This morning I listened to 99 & Barry though, the 10/4/13 show archived on Not only are those guys incredible DJs and an ideal couple, they also make me laugh every time. This morning I was laughing out loud in the graveyard. It felt strange to hear myself laugh in that huge quiet place. I loved laughing there though, laughing in the place of death.
Dreaming of Berlin.
I always stop and look at the Post cover on my way. Big Bill's the new mayor.
These grave photos are endlessly fascinating to me. And I love this woman.d
Didn't quite get this one right, the phones not over the ears. I'll have to recreate it tomorrow.