Art can’t be misinterpreted. Art can be interpreted, and it should be. And some of those interpretations seem to defy all sense of time, space, and logic. And they should. Art is not math, or physics, or sports. Art is not meant to …
Sometimes They tell you things you need to hear Sometimes They tell you things you shouldn’t hear Sometimes They won’t be quiet at all, even if you don’t understand Sometimes You wish others could hear, but they’re listening to themselves …
This recipe is adapted from the famous Quaker Oats recipe. I reduce the sugar, add extra liquid in the form of one more egg and maybe some yogurt. The result is like little bite-sized quick-breads, less short and less sugary, far more oat-textured. These …
Tread softly because you tread on my words. pic.twitter.com/IUGreyPj4v — Brian Bilston (@brian_bilston) December 13, 2018
Travelling by train from Paris to Milan, Spooked and saddened from too much movement; My uneasy rest was cut short by the customs official demanding my passport I had been in one of those sleeps which do not let go of the heart, And …
All Lenore could see through the peephole was a confused mass of dark red. The bell rang once more. “Who is it?” she demanded. “I don’t answer the door for invisible people.” ‘It’s me.” Lenore rolled her eyes. “Who is me?” “It’s Astro Boi …
the economic logistics of public transportation;
from our newest blog member, My Life on a Legal Pad
we try to communicate
A poem about shoes. Or regrets. You decide.
No one cared about old woodies. You threw them away and got another one. Who would believe that they would go for $90,000 in years to come? Not I, that’s for sure.
