I was perusing the American Film Institute's list of the Top 100 Movies of all time. Now, they may be wrong as often as they're right, but it was fun to recall the reasoning behind their choices. For instance... It Happened One Night , 1934 When you've got somewhere to go,…
Bedside Library: Millions of Books!
This is getting ridiculous. I mean, I love to read. That hasn't changed. And I've always been a tad over-zealous when choosing my reading material. It's like that book (naturally I would site a book here, right?)... what was the title? A children's book... I just saw it in Jen's…
Consider a boiled skull on a table.
At first you may recoil at the sight, succumbing to the childlike fear of ghosts and ghouls and zombies, a reluctant-to-depart spirit haunting the blank, dark pockets which once housed eyes. Then you give yourself a shake. There is nothing to fear, you think, and the thought whirls in your…
Silence
It's amazing what I cannot think of when my head is filled with the noise of the modern world. Names and places and dates and descriptions which would come so easily to me on an ordinary day, cannot be coaxed or conjured between sirens and loud voices... they cower in…
Summertime at The Stanford
It's that time again to shed my shoes and lounge in the grass, languishing in the evening heat and loving Summer. It is a time of festival and freedom and fireworks and friendship. This weekend, the Livermore Rodeo is in town (indeed, the fastest rodeo on earth!). The Alameda County…
In Memory of the Carpenter and his Wife
My Grandpa Pete's wife, Helen, passed away last weekend. Because my family lived in California, a cool 2,000 miles from our Campagna relatives in Moline, IL (Mom's side), I only met Helen a handful of times. She was a very petite lady with large-lensed glasses and curly auburn hair.…
Echo
My finger traces a mystified trail From his nose across his cheek, Round the curve of cartilage at the base of his ear, Down alongside the thick artery in his neck, To the cavern of his clavicle, The bridge of his sternum. In our intimacy I realize I don't know…
Bei Mir Bist Du Schön
I'm thirsty for creation. Sit in the dark. Wait until the house is silent and then, with all the shades down and the door double-bolted, back into a corner and wait for your Imagination to rise from the shadows. If I follow my own direction, I find Her there, blossoming…