El Violin: Valencia ( A Love Poem to the Spanish City of Oranges

Bohemian nights in Valencia where the gypsies shred violins into the coming dark
“Rhythmic swells reverberate trough my lungs. The back streets of Valencia.

Back street Europe.

Romani enclaves and gypsy parts of town.

We’ll sit here in the Plaça de la Virgen with our stiff sangria, smartly bashful in red-faced delerium.

For it is Spring and the blossoms have begun to sing. 

A nod to blanco nerium”

A poem to the City of Oranges. An Open Love Letter to the City of Valencia, Spain.

On Arabic Sweets and the Middle East: Kunafa – NICHOLAS ANDRIANI

All of these things are true… I had been in Jordan for several weeks and my love affair with Arabian sweets had reached a lofty peak. In fact, I would begin and end each day with a platter of pastries, smothered in honeys and syrups that would flood through heaps of pistachios on my plate. Then it happened… I… […]

“Conflating Art and Journalism Is Bad For Both” –Ingrid Burrington

“So a weird thing about making money writing words and making money doing art and sometimes making money writing code is that people really want to define what it is you do, exactly. This becomes especially important when people are, for example, a publisher who needs to see your book or a radio show that is having you on to talk about your book.