Laundromat

Blue Lion

View from the Hill

Rainbow

This rainbow preceded a burst of cold, a hail storm, a rainstorm and a woman babbling/cackling/yelling/speaking for 20 minutes straight.

Jonathan Franzen: Freedom

Freedom by Jonathan Franzen

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


Airing America's dirty laundry... perhaps a little too soon... anxiety, tug-of-war, watching a car crash slowly... if anyone is around to look back on the turn of the millennium and the decade that followed then this novel will be source material... the message kept simmering... dragging... we know what to do and yet we tug while gravity pulls us into the fall... but there are people out there unwilling to bend, unwilling to stop, and they are heroes... staying true to yourself is never the easy road, but what else is there to live for?



View all my reviews

From the Lookout

Brunch

Shadow

Downtown

Ohanami

Segway Thru the Park

Arguello & Fulton

Sailboat

Moving Out #2

Moving Out

Eyes on a Tree

Buena Vista Vista

Saturday Morning

Junk Pile

Throwing Muses: The Season Sessions, Winter

St. Francis Diner

Dangling Ceiling

But Purple Paper Says, "Yes"

The Clown Says, "No"

Sushi (in America)

Harvey Milk

Happy New Year

Fire In the Sky

Boston, South Station

Christmas at Logan Airport

Chicago

Colorful

Even More Flash Santas

More Flash Santa

Flash Santa

Manhattan

Trax

Blimp

May Lee's

Asahi Lucky Cat

CCA Night 2

29 Bloody Marys

Veterans' Day

Installation by Julie Mendez.

: D. in his extra-large blue pajamas, gets orange juice from T downstairs; walk to Kaiser, run into M. strolling her son, he stares at me with big, curious brown eyes; waiting room in the SW corner, two well-groomed men, one taps his foot nervously while the other is ushered in; what I must look like, red-faced from walking, dripping coffee from my fingers, flannel and dirty jeans; weigh-in, 191 lbs, srsly?; heart-rate reads 92 which I mistake for my own but, as numbers flash and disappear, I realize it belonged to my predecessor; spray-gun thermos of liquid nitrogen; still early enough I go to Nijiya market for kewpee mayonnaise, salad dressing, tea, curry, and melon pan; he stands alone smoking a cigarette, blue flannel shirt, speed-acne, slight tilt to his eye, on the bus he flips through a sketchbook of inked octopi, stubble along his jawline and chin, a tilt to his lip, maybe no shower after a booze flipped night, feels like Friday; falafel with A. and run into C.; MetLife blimp, the image of Snoopy looks like a mix of Orville Redenbacher and the I.R.S. Records man; though I had 7 hours of sleep I feel hungover-exhausted; meeting about Stealth Seminars; snap a pictures of J.’s California Veteran’s statistics; ride the bus home; left-over chicken parmesan, Fringe and The Event; R. comes home, she shows me her work clothes for tomorrow, flannel blue pajamas and Cookie Monster slippers; “You’re gonna wear your nude Steve Madden heels, right?” “Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah! No question. I was just 99% about the outfit, you know what I’m sayin’?”

Brown Eyes

House on Masonic

Friendship Bracelet

Giants

Out of Service