Protest Night Four: What now?
I had my perception of the Oakland protests. Night One: people upset over the state of race relations in our country, and police impunity in reflecting it, demonstrated in the streets with… Continue reading
Category Archive: Photos
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Dear fellow Oakland protesters, and others
Dear fellow protesters in Oakland, thank you for coming. I know you’re angry, so to not waste your time I’ll get to it: What is the point? Your point. Your purpose. Your goal.… Continue reading
Protest in Oakland, Night 2; I wasn’t expecting that.
Helicopter buzzards hung above Oakland tonight, again. I barely slept last night, was dead on my feet at 5:00 this afternoon, was freezing, and still kind of hungry after finishing my leftovers. I… Continue reading
Oakland protests, then riots, after Ferguson decision
There are helicopters in the sky of Oakland tonight. I have a Thanksgiving blog typed up, ready to go. But there are helicopters above me, still. The rumble of three overhead, hours… Continue reading
Where to find, where to miss, and how to kill the divine.
The coarse wool of my djellaba was scratchier than the sand blowing against my bare legs. Maybe the other way around. One does not customarily wear shorts in the desert, but I welcomed… Continue reading
Hemoglobin, non-terrorism, and adorable despite a little racism; in Panama City.
I was a happy little red blood cell. Biding my time before entering the veins of Venezuela, I was promenading through the pulse of Panama, crossing arterial roadways to meander beside the lymphatic… Continue reading
Why bother blogging?
I’m supposed to be writing a blog right now. Instead, I’m pretending to type while observing the hunched man across the communal table, who looks like Lewis Black fallen on hard times. His… Continue reading
A tangible reason to care about the future. In San Diego.
San Diego is paisley from above. Curls and loops and whorls of housing developments; conceived at desks, proposed in meetings, and built by contract. All those lives, churning away down there, unknowable, each… Continue reading
Pussycat love and perspective on/in Israel
So yes, Jerusalem felt like it wanted to hate me. But I still fell head-over-heels in love in the city. I suspect he was a male. He had clean teeth, big feet, and… Continue reading
I fear for Israel; or, Jerusalem wanted to hate me.
“I need a little more time to know for sure how I feel about Jerusalem…” was all I could say after I left there last year. Months went by, and I never came back… Continue reading
