My Russian is a fragmented work in progress. I read my first book in my mother tongue since childhood last year. I seek out Russian movies with no subtitles. But I miss whole chunks of dialogue and reference. I can’t spell. It’s not quite a vestigial tail but close. My father often sends me linksContinue reading “Ryzhy”


Ah! well a-day! what evil looks/Had I from old and young! Instead of the cross, the AlbatrossAbout my neck was hung. Samuel Coleridge The albatross isn’t a beautiful bird. From some angles it appears neckless, like a middle-aged balding man who’s put on some pounds he can’t get rid of. The downward hook of itsContinue reading “Albatross”

The Message is Just Medium

Some old ideas are hard to scrub from my head. I’ve called myself a painter over thirty years but when I’m not using oil paint there’s an inner voice that questions whether I can call myself that. Where does this come from? Whatever medium you work in there’s a hierarchy, for better or worse. AContinue reading “The Message is Just Medium”