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I’ve never felt I belonged anywhere. Leaving a place as a child sometimes has that effect. Because I didn’t live in Moscow long enough to establish an identity I can’t quite think of it as home; in any case, the country I left at age seven no longer exists so there’s nowhere for me toContinue reading “Refuge”

I’m a collector of stuff that most folks ignore/You know that one man’s ceiling is another man’s floor/I’ve got gadgets and junk up to my knees/But it’s just like finding buried treasure to me… These first few lines from “White Elephant” play in the background of my mind like a theme song almost every time I goContinue reading “White Elephant”

My living room has old-fashioned wallpaper. It reminds me of the walls of 19th century sitting rooms in proper homes as seen in Westerns or depicted in paintings of the time to evoke stolid bourgeois life. Up until a few months ago I only hung work in progress over this wallpaper, but then it occurredContinue reading “Trick Dog”