My brother's 40

April 12, 2013


December 28, 2013

Solstice Sun

December 21, 2013


December 16, 2013

Coming down out of the mountains, a long windy drive, ice in the shady spots of the road, frost clinging to the dirt. A vulture on top of a telephone poll, wings full spread, back to the just-rising sun, warming himself.

Frozen out from Tam

December 08, 2013


November 22, 2013

Yellow bright inside. The dark nights sharpen the early evenings, especially with a dose of sparkle-light outside. A cacophony of children noises, a "grilled cheese" ordered, a man in a crumpled blue shirt, a self-contented smile on his face and a fat-ass wallet stands in line, just behind a stunning girl and her frat boyfriend. Jazz mutters in the background. Jewel-encrusted iPhone cases are out; grandmas taking pictures. The coziest place in the world.


November 21, 2013

Blue exhaustion

November 18, 2013

Pedal by pedal, up and down along cracked streets, empty, perfumed stores, a grey, slightly cold day, time slips by, buzzed by a slight fatigue.

In other news, Oakland got "Pandora" to finally label one of its buildings, lending a touch of cool to the up-until-now lame skyline, which still features a prominent "" building.

Sticky Tobacco

November 17, 2013

He pulled out a plastic bag -- could've been mistaken for a fancy glass case -- clumped out the sticky tobacco and rolled it tight in the rolling paper, the musty smell of BART floating around him like raw, space junk-contaminated atmosphere, the yellow train electric light floating all around ...

He rolled the cig with a 15 percent twist -- imagined a buzz, screwing itself along. Couldn't help but think about the clumpiness of pot compared to the sticky, syrupy tobacco.

On the seat closest to him, facing out, sat a mother and little girl -- about 2 or 3 years old -- in orange-pink stockings, her body resting into mom's, feeling the comfort of the world. A heartbeat, full warmth of a body, neck curled.


A pair of video cameras excite the whole place; a bright light, powered by 6 AA batteries exposed on the back of the multi-LED stage lighting, casts a "clean, well-lighted place" comfort all around.

Coupled with the purple-grey middle-late evening light suffused through the place's transom windows, the activity in the place, coupled with the camera crew, offered a frozen-in-time, pre-fatigued spark.

A clump of dying flowers sat on the countertop.

The emptiness of sun-struck concrete

October 13, 2013


July 28, 2013

Temescal evening

June 4, 2013

Crazy couple of months

June 3, 2013

Crazy last couple of months. Moved in with my girlfriend?!, moved offices at work -- we're now in Emeryville, Calif., right across from Pixar's headquarters, where they play soccer and do boxing and other odd aerobics at lunch behind their high fences; it's a huge campus -- is that it?

The new home is great. It's near Lake Merritt, walking distance to three cool shopping districts, including downtown Oakland, Piedmont and Oakland's Grand Lake hood. Living with the partner has been interesting. Blah, blah, blah. This isn't a journal.

Took an early evening walk in the hood. Got coffee after a burrito and listened to the cloyingly obsequious pick-up lines of a guy from Tunis, Tunisia. He sat on a Peet's bench in the waning evening and accosted girls that walked by as he talked about bedding them to his partner just after making his pitches. Some older Polish guys in paint-splattered clothing sat next to me on the bench I was on, speaking harshly in their tongue while I read Devil in the White City, loaned to me by InmanAndrea.

Empire of the Summer Moon

April 7, 2013

Book's rocking my world. It's about the last of the greatest Indian tribes of the southern U.S. plains -- the Comanches -- and written by S.C. Gwynne, a former editor-in-chief of Texas Monthly. The book was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize in 2010.

It chronicles, with present-day geography tips, the battles, skirmishes, life of the Comanches along the bleeding frontier that existed in Texas as Americans moved west up against the southern great plains and the master-horsemen that the Comanches had become. In the 1800s, they had become the dominant Indian tribe in the southern plains, which contained the fullest herds of buffalo. At that time, millions of buffalo thundered the vast, weathered plains of the U.S.

The book gives new meaning to growing up in Texas. Just a hundred years removed from all this, I came into the world in that town that still felt like a frontier. There's a wild, chaotic and magical energy there still. It's at the edge of the 98th meridian, west of which rainfall was sparse enough to prevent the trees that grew east. And no trees meant buffalo and white-out blizzards, oceanic grasslands, hardscrabble land broken by clear, crystal streams and canyons upon that limestone upland called the "llano estacado."

Michaelangelo's Cherub

April 1, 2013

Oakland Is

March 31, 2013


March 28, 2013


February 02, 2013

Notes from the Big City

January 27, 2013


January 22, 2012

Downtown, Sat. Morning

January 19, 2013

Stanford Trip

January 13, 2013