tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22733475897005702762024-10-25T06:19:49.133-04:00BROKEN LADDERSBroken Ladders is a "comic opera" that blends sequential art with song. I'll be posting the book a few pages at a time.
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07783991379204011690noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2273347589700570276.post-81628455704555401902014-08-09T23:38:00.000-04:002014-08-09T23:38:06.530-04:00My Napoleon Complex
NOTES:
Looking back on your own close-mindedness is so difficult. I want to go back and shake that boy, tell him to love where he's from, embrace what he's afraid of, and open up his mind, fool.
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07783991379204011690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2273347589700570276.post-7040448202730120822014-07-23T23:48:00.000-04:002014-07-28T23:58:35.268-04:00Old Man
NOTES:
Old Man:
This is my attempt to illustrate the context of my own lyrics. The scariest part of writing is when you realize that part of you is in ALL of the characters. I am watching the old man and I am the old man.
Broken Ladder:
This is the oldest song on the record. I wrote it at a time when I was just starting to realize that urban geography had such a strongAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07783991379204011690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2273347589700570276.post-56689032159676311862014-07-22T02:02:00.002-04:002014-08-09T23:42:26.771-04:00And On The Sixth Day...
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Notes:
My parents remember where they were when Kennedy was shot. I remember where I was when the Challenger exploded. These kids will remember where they were on 9/11. I wish I’d handled it differently.
Here’s some more context for the year 2001:
Only the richest kids had iPods, which were released that October.
Facebook didn’t exist; kids wasted Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07783991379204011690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2273347589700570276.post-82891431680786262102014-07-22T01:57:00.001-04:002014-07-22T01:59:05.355-04:00The First Day of School, 6 a.m.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07783991379204011690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2273347589700570276.post-60338719880364028022014-07-20T00:02:00.002-04:002014-07-22T01:54:39.180-04:00Recurring Dream
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Notes:
I really do have a variation of this dream quite often. It is completely awesome, though the dreams are usually accompanied by some sense of frustration because no one else in the dream recognizes how great I am for being able to do this. Hmm. Typical.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07783991379204011690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2273347589700570276.post-12449884856495631522014-07-19T23:58:00.001-04:002014-07-22T02:16:31.833-04:00Recurring Nightmare
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This is true. I have had dreams of broken teeth for a long time. When I was in grad school I came across a poem called "The Lesson of the Teeth" in Judith Ortiz Cofer’s The Latin Deli. I love when reading relates directly to your life. I have always wondered what these dreams of mine meant, and this poem helped me figure it out.
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07783991379204011690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2273347589700570276.post-32200950999139249472014-07-18T03:03:00.003-04:002014-07-18T03:10:34.544-04:00FlyingAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07783991379204011690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2273347589700570276.post-86871545583288760542014-07-18T02:36:00.001-04:002014-07-23T14:03:53.222-04:00The Races
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Notes:
I ordered a print of Jack Yeats’ Galway Races from Ireland but had no place to put it in the apartment, so I brought it to school and put it above my desk. Perhaps I should clarify that Jim and Greg were dating other people and not each other.
Apologies to Jack Yeats.
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07783991379204011690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2273347589700570276.post-33342313947683386012014-07-18T01:55:00.002-04:002014-07-22T02:14:08.857-04:00False Starts
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Notes:
This poem is my haiku version of the first few lines of Dante's Inferno. I know it's lame to explain your jokes or allusions, but I'm excited to use hypertext. Sorry.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07783991379204011690noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2273347589700570276.post-56882084643394698322014-07-18T01:48:00.002-04:002014-07-18T03:09:05.735-04:00This Is Where We LivedAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07783991379204011690noreply@blogger.com0