Writer • Musician
This morning here we are on the FTL flight to LAX, heading west. The west: romantic, epic, and mythological. The west, prolonging the morning. Keeping the day young. In the pre-Columbian past, east and west didn't exist in these terms, not like we think of them today. To the Europeans, all of America might have …
Continue reading "The east is history. The west is myth. (Tales of two: east and west)"
Interlaken, Switzerland I rode into Interlaken at sundown and spent my first and only night there at the Funny Farm. That’s the youth hostel where I booked my stay, because with a name like that, it was hard to resist. Interlaken’s a resort town made for the outdoors and for the outdoor enthusiast—not exactly …
Continue reading "The Switzerland Papers #1: High Times at the Funny Farm"
Note from the Editor: Cal Corso. Actor, poet, frenetic wild child and the natural leader of this band of hooligans. Orphaned as a small boy and raised by his aunt. Moved to California in 2017 accompanied by Jude Moonlight where he fell in with an odd assortment of characters and has since been leapfrogging from …
My first recollection is the steam rising ominously from the surface, from the pools that weren't visible from where I initially stood just before I started toward them. I call them pools because at first glance, that's what they looked like. Beautiful to look upon. Clear and strikingly blue. They reminded me of the waters …
A Lesson in Presence The sky was cast in a deep azure glow, illuminating the dark outline of the clouds at night, just above the aura of gold shining from the lights below. This was Plaza Mayor, in the heart of the old town, where people drank wine and champagne, smoked cigars, ate good food, …
I looked for the center of the city. I wanted to see where everyone congregated in the capital, so I started toward Plaza Mayor and Puerta del Sol. The first thing I noticed was that the streets were very narrow, romantic like something out of a movie. Every so often a dude zipped by on …
My feet were in Madrid. My head was lost somewhere in the woods of America. Technically I had no home, and for the better part of a month, I’d been on the road before heading to Europe. I'd left the west coast. I'd grown to love it, but the world outside was calling. I started …
Ren Michael 