snapshots of architecture, art, and antiquities of beautiful Berlin

Berlin, Germany is a living, well kept up ode to Grecian architecture, Roman and other ancient world antiquities, classical treasures in sumptuous museums, 19th century design and art, classical music, coffeehouses, bookshops, culture, beauty, ideals, dark history, fresh hopes, and a detached but genial air keeping time with efficiency. The architecture and the antiquities in the museums are seductive and worth the visit! What a charming and fascinating city!!!

the berlin wall

Visiting the Berlin wall in Germany in March was such an amazing experience. The recent history of the most basic freedoms stripped from half of Berliner‘s every day lives for decades is a vital reminder of why fascism and totalitarian societies don’t work under any conditions. Power always corrupts, art and education are replaced by propaganda, and group think, not individuality, is encouraged. Any political or social group who fears satire or who encourages Orwellian newspeak or Kafkaesque show trials or book burning or word banning, is its own little Stasí police state ripe for the taking. The wall pieces must stay, the new city must continue to grow, and history must be taught and learned so we all have the possibility for it not to repeat itself with total abandon. Berlin is a fantastic city!

let me tell you everything from 3000 miles away


What if a girl met a boy online and they talked and talked and talked in a series of messages and photos and videos but never on the telephone or face to face?

What if a girl did this over and over again with a few boys over a few years, searching for herself in someone else, in a series of misconnections, and connections, oft times shallow, but at times seemingly, beautifully deep? What is real and what is artifice – between two people who “feel” they “know” each other intensely – for awhile? When is the exact moment the lines blur and fantasy and reality become too entangled? Where do you escape the escape when it grows too real, and therefore, too untenable?

What if a girl made a little “story” about a dead girl who rhetorically tweets a boy 3000 miles away from the tomb, and he doesn’t even know she is gone? 

This is from a series I worked on and wrote two years ago (2014)



dido’s lament 

Loneliness is so much richer in a crowd.
False flashes of happiness skim over you like patches of sun between all the shadow. But nothing penetrates your skin. You don’t live, you just float, dreamlike, for awhile, eyes closed or open, you just… exist.

You keep losing track of yourself in the mirror. The photograph doesn’t count missing pieces or the inner picture of a brain anymore.

You strange relic to be categorized and placed somewhere not too prominent, some desecrated Venus to half-interested visitors. You’re hard and smooth as stone, you’re inaccessible, always just out of reach of the rare hand grasped to touch.

You’re not to be saved or relished by anyone.
There’s no path to get lost on in your head, no map to follow home, no ship at port bearing signs of departure.

There are no more conversations worth having or kisses to be stolen behind a smile.

All overtures are purely academic. Disavowal doesn’t make a sound in an echo chamber.
When you were younger, and almost beautiful, you shone like a light to the world. But you carried a constant pang and a dread. They were your only constants in a tempest. Death felt black and hollow and lay somewhere between your heart and the brief eclipse of a dead child once taken from there.
Silence, these days, is a relief from the lies offering escape or release for you. There is nothing to return to. There is no destination ahead.

Love is too heavy an abstraction for a literal mind. Music and lies and make believe passions do not move you the way they used to.
Desire is the new death knell, desire in your ice age, desire that can never be answered.

Ghosts cannot be measured or weighed, merely forgotten in the absence of appraisal.

So I’m using the metaphor of a broken goddess of love statue because I’m a forty year old woman and worry about losing the Aphrodite aspect of my life sometimes. Which is pretty realistic but whenever I think I know a door is closed to me another one opens up unexpectedly, so what do I know?! 😉