Escher on Mushrooms
What begins as playful hallucination gradually becomes a meditation on pattern, cognition, porous borders, and the strange machinery through which human beings construct reality.
Read more →Maker – Writer – Thinker
What begins as playful hallucination gradually becomes a meditation on pattern, cognition, porous borders, and the strange machinery through which human beings construct reality.
Read more →
At seventy-seven, an artist finally crosses a threshold he had avoided his entire life, only to discover that what frightened him most was not hallucination, but transcendence itself.
Read more →By February of 1993, our apartment high above lower Manhattan had finally begun to feel like home. Then, late at night, strangers started entering through the phone lines.
Read more →On New Year’s Day, 1993, I boarded a plane to New York with my daughter in one arm and a strange magazine about the future in the other.
Read more →
She does not remain, and yet never disappears, continuing to move through my life as presence, memory, and something just beyond understanding.
Read more →
A quiet encounter opens into something I cannot explain, only recognize as it unfolds.
Read more →
What begins in play carries us into something larger, where love feels fully alive and shaped by forces neither of us can yet name.
Read more →
I follow a stranger’s instructions without belief, and find myself returning to a love I thought was already gone.
Read more →
In the aftermath, a walk into the woods and the presence of birds offer a different way of understanding what has happened.
Read more →
Driving home alone, a song finds the shape of a loss I cannot yet name and begins to hold it for me.
Read more →