White paper clay sculptures, various designs.
Using a tilt-shift lens and post-processing for the colors, I created this photo of a Paris street that looks like a vein of gold.
Assorted paper white clay sculptures.
After the long, cold, dark winters I find the spring so invigorating. I finally started photographing budding flowers and green city views again.
There are 88 Hitler clones in total, every clone being the source material for the subsequent one.
Stunning boat and dock photography.
Photography from around Detroit.
These photographs are the result of an accident. While cleaning up a barn, I found three broken, and abandoned windows.
A review about a controversial book by Jodi Picoult.
A book review about a philosophical fictional novel.
30 years before there were gastropubs there was Chocolate George.
A Glimpse into your Mind’s Eye: When Reading Poetry Exceeds your Expectations.
A review of Syllables of Rain by D.S. Lliteras.
An event for writers to experience good writing.
A concise survey of the Canadian publishing scene.
A children’s tale carries important social information.
Nobody knows the future, but anyone who shits on The Establishment can say the worst is behind them.
Review of forthcoming poetry book “Daphne and Her Discontents” from Ravenna Press, by Jane Rosenberg LaForge.
This story feels honest and real. Its natural and realistic arc will pull you in, and it will get more gritty and more desperate.
A science fiction short story about robots living with humans.
Charles is a child with dwarfism who moves to his recently deceased grandfather’s lake house with his sometimes-excessively worried mother.
Two very different people meet.
Fading memories are awakened and new love blossoms within the beat cafes and soda fountains of the mind.
This short story is from the perspective of a five-year-old who is confronted with things heard on the news.
Lives collide in the stop and go traffic of everyday life.
A short story about class difference within the confined space of a boarding school.
Georgina looks at my black eye and damaged face with appalled concern but is too polite and professional to ask.
Sometimes the most unexpected sequence of events leads us to our destined path.
Bobbie discloses an agonizing secret to her best friend and discovers that even the people you’re closest to may never really know you.
A ghost story that takes a deep bow to Samuel Beckett.
Dark angels ascend from Dante’s seventh circle—
manics who composed their anguish
here I sit, & think not
where the danger of this adverse town
Between two high notes
The song gives a crack
Missing loved ones
A poem about passing, being believed to be something by others which one really is not at heart.
Like a little Abel
This poem talks about the unfettered belief and the respect for the tradition carried out by our elderly. It is an ode to their simple beliefs.
The circle grows smaller as each throb conspires
to rob my fingertips of feeling.
A poem written with an eye toward the spiritual, magical.
and now that darkness has
swallowed the sun