All articles filed in Reflection

It’s Monday, around noon, and I’m at the Charlton Plaza on the Massachusetts Turnpike, on my way home from vacation. On my trip back from New Brunswick, I passed through about seven miles of New Hampshire – the seven miles of highway that stretch from Maine to Massachusetts.  Driving break time, and I pulled into…

I’ve closed my eyes and let my imagination take me to a million different worlds, a million different lifetimes, adventures beyond the stars and wonders throughout time. It’s the ability to use my imagination – and, from those moments of thought and contemplation and reflection, build upon my life – that I feel has been…

It’s no secret that I am a fan and supporter of Erin Davies and her Fagbug, the rainbow-painted Volkswagen Beetle that stands as a symbol of support and pride against bigotry and homophobia. Well, the Fagbug has traveled the country over the past few years, and recently it made a swing through Topeka, Kansas. Topeka…

Nobody else made them as well as she did. I could go to any restaurant, any fast-food place, any breakfast-isserie around here.  And none of them would compare. Don’t get me wrong.  There are places in this area where I can get a delicious breakfast sandwich with fried eggs on a bagel or on an…

Take a breath. That first breath. Let it fill your lungs.  Let it fill your soul. That first morning breath.  The air feels different inside your nose, inside your throat.  Like opening a door to a closed room, you can feel the air as it sleekly slides through your nostrils. Open one eye. That first…

I wonder sometimes if, between the time we start to fall asleep and the moments where it actually occurs, what we might hear in our subconscious mind. Maybe we are greeted with an electromagnetic chorus of classical music, similar to Isao Tomita’s interpretation of Claude Debussy’s “Arabesque No. 1”, in our minds… Or maybe Claude…

The toughest part is letting go.  Letting go of the anger and the hatred and the feelings of worthlessness and regret and fear and sadness. Not to just let it go completely – but to not let it take control of my life any more. It’s been almost nine months since I sat in a…

It’s Christmas, 1969.  At that time, I was living with my maternal grandparents in a small Cape-style house on Kenwood Avenue in Slingerlands.  And Christmas was coming. I’m sure my aunts purchased things from the Friendly Home Parties catalog for all of us, and I’m sure my grandparents wrapped everything the night before Christmas.  I’m…