A simple place for essays, experiments, and useful ideas.
Notes and essays, organized by date.
All posts
656 published posts across 11 pages.
July 22, 2021
A simple plate can feel like a relief when food has become too loud. I understand why people are drawn to fewer choices. It can quiet the bargaining for a while. That does not make it magic, and it does not make it righ…
July 20, 2021
The old war notes I was reading made me think less about speeches and more about boots, mud, and mail. World War I becomes too large to hold if it stays only on maps. The smaller details bring it back down to human size…
July 13, 2021
A deer held still near the road longer than I expected. Traffic kept moving. A door shut somewhere. The bird or animal did not seem interested in becoming a lesson. That is probably why I noticed it. Suburban New Jersey…
July 12, 2021
Fanwood looked better from the side street than from the main road. That is usually true of New Jersey towns. You have to miss the quickest way through.
July 9, 2021
The receipt was too long for the meal, which somehow felt right. A good counter can forgive a rushed lunch.
July 8, 2021
The table in Mountainside had a paper napkin under one leg and coffee that had been sitting too long. That is not a complaint. Some meals are remembered because the room makes room for a tired person. Neighborhood food…
July 4, 2021
Opened Emily Dickinson for five minutes and got more than I deserved from it. Closed the book before I started turning the line into a speech.
July 4, 2021
Passed through Elizabeth and caught one small thing: a sign, a doorway, somebody carrying coffee too carefully. That was the whole note. Some towns are mostly made of things you only see while stopped at a light.
July 1, 2021
A simple plate can feel like a relief when food has become too loud. I understand why people are drawn to fewer choices. It can quiet the bargaining for a while. That does not make it magic, and it does not make it righ…
June 30, 2021
A red-tailed hawk had the whole block to itself for a moment. Nobody else seemed to notice. That made it better.
June 28, 2021
The best part was one side street I did not plan to take. A bakery window, two people talking too close to the curb, a train time I had to check twice. That was enough.
June 25, 2021
Read a little Walt Whitman and meant to read more, but the day got away from me. One line was enough. Sometimes that is all the room can hold.
June 22, 2021
The shoes were by the door before I felt like walking. That is usually how health works for me. The useful thing has to be started before the mood agrees to it. Sleep, food, walking, lifting, water, less noise. None of…
June 20, 2021
A goldfinch held still near the road longer than I expected. Traffic kept moving. A door shut somewhere. The bird or animal did not seem interested in becoming a lesson. That is probably why I noticed it. Suburban New J…
June 20, 2021
An old pen sat next to the open page, and Matthew 6 did not need much decoration. I read it slowly because I have a bad habit of making familiar words too easy. A verse can become furniture if a person only walks past i…
June 16, 2021
There was a time when late coffee felt like a normal bad idea. Now even bad ideas seem to need nicer lighting.
June 15, 2021
The smaller station is often where a traveler starts noticing again. Big cities tell you what to look at. Smaller towns leave more work to the eye: a bakery window, a narrow street, a quiet market, a train board clickin…
June 14, 2021
A simple plate can feel like a relief when food has become too loud. I understand why people are drawn to fewer choices. It can quiet the bargaining for a while. That does not make it magic, and it does not make it righ…
June 14, 2021
The thing that stayed with me was not a headline but a kitchen detail: rationing, blackout cloth, a careful hand with what was left. World War II can become too clean in memory if it is only told through victories. The…
June 11, 2021
The line went out badly near Warinanco Park, and there was no way to pretend otherwise. Fishing has a way of making impatience visible. The water does not care how clean the cast looked in a person's head. I watched the…
June 8, 2021
The thing that stayed with me was not a headline but a kitchen detail: rationing, blackout cloth, a careful hand with what was left. World War II can become too clean in memory if it is only told through victories. The…
June 5, 2021
The table in Elizabeth had a paper napkin under one leg and coffee that had been sitting too long. That is not a complaint. Some meals are remembered because the room makes room for a tired person. Neighborhood food is…
June 4, 2021
The thought started at a bus stop, looking at the places people pass before anyone knows their name. Public lives can look inevitable from a distance. They never are. Everyone starts on some street, in some kitchen, und…
June 3, 2021
The table in Scotch Plains had a paper napkin under one leg and coffee that had been sitting too long. That is not a complaint. Some meals are remembered because the room makes room for a tired person. Neighborhood food…
June 1, 2021
The line went out badly near Nomahegan Park, and there was no way to pretend otherwise. Fishing has a way of making impatience visible. The water does not care how clean the cast looked in a person's head. I watched the…
May 30, 2021
Read Byron late, which is probably when he does the most damage. The line had style. The mood around it needed watching.
May 24, 2021
I had William Blake open with a folded napkin nearby and the room getting a little darker. The poem did not explain itself all at once. The better lines rarely do. They stay put while the reader shifts around in the cha…
May 19, 2021
Passed through Clark and caught one small thing: a sign, a doorway, somebody carrying coffee too carefully. That was the whole note. Some towns are mostly made of things you only see while stopped at a light.
May 18, 2021
The shoes were by the door before I felt like walking. That is usually how health works for me. The useful thing has to be started before the mood agrees to it. Sleep, food, walking, lifting, water, less noise. None of…
May 13, 2021
A heron held still near the road longer than I expected. Traffic kept moving. A door shut somewhere. The bird or animal did not seem interested in becoming a lesson. That is probably why I noticed it. Suburban New Jerse…
May 12, 2021
Wet pavement outside the door was enough to slow the afternoon down for a minute. Most days do not announce what they are going to mean. They leave small evidence and let a person decide whether to notice. I am trying t…
May 11, 2021
I had William Wordsworth open with cold coffee nearby and the room getting a little darker. The poem did not explain itself all at once. The better lines rarely do. They stay put while the reader shifts around in the ch…
May 9, 2021
A grocery receipt sat next to the open page, and Proverbs 3 did not need much decoration. I read it slowly because I have a bad habit of making familiar words too easy. A verse can become furniture if a person only walk…
May 2, 2021
I had John Donne open with a church bulletin nearby and the room getting a little darker. The poem did not explain itself all at once. The better lines rarely do. They stay put while the reader shifts around in the chai…
May 1, 2021
An old pen sat next to the open page, and Luke 15 did not need much decoration. I read it slowly because I have a bad habit of making familiar words too easy. A verse can become furniture if a person only walks past it.…
April 29, 2021
The morning started with a folded napkin by the plate and no great feeling of readiness. I said the short prayer anyway. Not because the room changed, and not because I suddenly understood what to do next. Prayer is oft…
April 27, 2021
The line went out badly near Echo Lake, and there was no way to pretend otherwise. Fishing has a way of making impatience visible. The water does not care how clean the cast looked in a person's head. I watched the weat…
April 25, 2021
The line went out badly near Echo Lake, and there was no way to pretend otherwise. Fishing has a way of making impatience visible. The water does not care how clean the cast looked in a person's head. I watched the weat…
April 24, 2021
The page of Byron was sitting beside a library receipt, which was probably the right amount of drama for the room. Byron is easy to admire for the wrong reasons. The speed, the pose, the beautiful wound, the refusal to…
April 23, 2021
Gas-station coffee sat next to the open page, and Luke 15 did not need much decoration. I read it slowly because I have a bad habit of making familiar words too easy. A verse can become furniture if a person only walks…
April 22, 2021
A folded napkin sat next to the open page, and Romans 8 did not need much decoration. I read it slowly because I have a bad habit of making familiar words too easy. A verse can become furniture if a person only walks pa…
April 22, 2021
Roselle Park looked ordinary from the road, which is usually when a place is easiest to underestimate. Union County keeps a lot of its memory in street names, rail crossings, old storefront shapes, and the odd bend of t…
April 22, 2021
The water near Nomahegan Park looked like it knew something and was not going to share. Fair enough. I mostly went there to look at it anyway.
April 20, 2021
The morning started with cold coffee on the counter and no great feeling of readiness. I said the short prayer anyway. Not because the room changed, and not because I suddenly understood what to do next. Prayer is often…
April 18, 2021
Berkeley Heights looked ordinary from the road, which is usually when a place is easiest to underestimate. Union County keeps a lot of its memory in street names, rail crossings, old storefront shapes, and the odd bend…
April 15, 2021
The page of Byron was sitting beside a grocery receipt, which was probably the right amount of drama for the room. Byron is easy to admire for the wrong reasons. The speed, the pose, the beautiful wound, the refusal to…
April 13, 2021
The smaller station is often where a traveler starts noticing again. Big cities tell you what to look at. Smaller towns leave more work to the eye: a bakery window, a narrow street, a quiet market, a train board clickin…
April 10, 2021
I had John Donne open with a pocket notebook nearby and the room getting a little darker. The poem did not explain itself all at once. The better lines rarely do. They stay put while the reader shifts around in the chai…
April 9, 2021
I walked a little through Roselle with gray light moving across the street. The older blocks had that New Jersey mix of pride and wear. A good front step, a tired sign, a small business opening its door. Nothing dramati…
April 8, 2021
The shoes were by the door before I felt like walking. That is usually how health works for me. The useful thing has to be started before the mood agrees to it. Sleep, food, walking, lifting, water, less noise. None of…
April 7, 2021
The table in Plainfield had a paper napkin under one leg and coffee that had been sitting too long. That is not a complaint. Some meals are remembered because the room makes room for a tired person. Neighborhood food is…
April 4, 2021
Stopped for a minute with a folded napkin by the plate and said what I could. Some prayers are small because the day is already loud.
April 3, 2021
The old war notes I was reading made me think less about speeches and more about boots, mud, and mail. World War I becomes too large to hold if it stays only on maps. The smaller details bring it back down to human size…
April 2, 2021
A blue jay held still near the road longer than I expected. Traffic kept moving. A door shut somewhere. The bird or animal did not seem interested in becoming a lesson. That is probably why I noticed it. Suburban New Je…
March 28, 2021
A marked envelope sat next to the open page, and Proverbs 3 did not need much decoration. I read it slowly because I have a bad habit of making familiar words too easy. A verse can become furniture if a person only walk…
March 25, 2021
Had a quick bite near Roselle Park. Nothing fancy. The coffee was not great, but the booth was. Sometimes the room does more work than the menu.
March 23, 2021
The thought started at a bus stop, looking at the places people pass before anyone knows their name. Public lives can look inevitable from a distance. They never are. Everyone starts on some street, in some kitchen, und…
March 22, 2021
The evening started with an old pen on the kitchen table and no great feeling of readiness. I said the short prayer anyway. Not because the room changed, and not because I suddenly understood what to do next. Prayer is…
March 22, 2021
The receipt was too long for the meal, which somehow felt right. A good counter can forgive a rushed lunch.
March 21, 2021
A folded napkin sat next to the open page, and Psalm 23 did not need much decoration. I read it slowly because I have a bad habit of making familiar words too easy. A verse can become furniture if a person only walks pa…