Pinned between the red and white tablecloths of a forgotten burger baron and the glistening switchblades of Clareview: Belvedere train station.its stained glass windows pour a teaspoon of beautyonto the concrete platform andi’m catching

The Winter Market

Mar 19th, 2008 7m 59s

Saturday morning, three inches of white out there, but it’s still a cool thing to hit the Farmer’s Market. With my three year old cousin in tow we hit it early. It’s around 9am – early but not too early, the place has started to stir and the

Third Cafe Sketch

Mar 11th, 2008 6m 50s

Steel crossbars serve as stylish walls between the cafe and the adjoining hotel, shielding the morning-afters from the caffeine punch. The gates are open and there’s some cheeserock on the speakers, Pat Bentar – something about best shots and

Industrial Park Jam

Nov 13th, 2007 3m 32s

Millwrights never work late and their shop is dead empty. A few scraps of wood in the lot right beside the dirty truck tracks. Maybe enough to forge a toothpick or maybe a small splint. The post office depot isn’t a post office proper. The

The Man In The Can

Nov 1st, 2007 4m 50s

Normally I wouldn’t cave on such a hare-braned story as this, but it was one that I hadn’t heard before. I fished a buck in coin out of my pants and gave it to the guy. “Thanks,” he said with great gratitude. “You’ve helped a man out.” Hop

The Blue Seats

Oct 25th, 2007 4m 3s

The sudden appearance of the blue seats reminded me of the rarity of blue in nature; how the cosmos cannot easily conjure blue, yet we do it with no effort. Red seats were war, riders knocked each other to get a parking spot, they toothed and

Motion Tirade

Oct 17th, 2007 3m 32s

To the shitfuck meatfaced assbag who passed me on 76th avenue – a single lane road – pound it, fucker. You almost caused a seven car pileup with your impatience and shocking, dipshitted recklessness. To the dumb broad doing her makeup while

Salmon River

Oct 11th, 2007 6m 31s

We set out on foot, just beyond the tracks. The sun was fullbore afternoon heat on our necks and our faces. The hair on my wife’s arms was up and beautiful, the pines were standing and the mountains were silent. The trail started in gravel,

A Bar Whore

Oct 9th, 2007 6m 16s

Sitting in the downtown cafe, menu drawn on a chalkboard, 250 for a tall black, change out and on the counter – SLAP, just enough. I survey the room and discover that there’s very few seats. I’m convinced that cafes are purposely made small

The Walk Up

Oct 5th, 2007 7m 27s

The walk up to Whyte Avenue was brisk, but my watchcap and woolies kept me in the plus. It was also two layers – one wool sweater, one fleece, a tumble down the gray sidetop to warm the nethers. The ride westward on the 106 was toasty, fan h

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