I was born in Miami, lived there till I was about three, then lived in the western end of Broward County outside the Everglades, right on the borderline of that greater swampland running from the southern tip of the peninsula to Lake Okeechobee. New Orleans felt like an extension of that in some way, maybe …
The east is history. The west is myth. (Tales of two: east and west)
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 …
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The Switzerland Papers #1: High Times at the Funny Farm
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 …
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I think I’ll be living in Santa Fe pretty soon
I think I’ll be living in Santa Fe soon picture me walking ‘long a New Mexico road that Pueblo adobe & streetlights of candlit brown paper bags on a winters night me and the moon and You standing before St. Francis cathedral yea I can see it I can see that being my little midnight …
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Cambria Kicks
Tucked away on California’s central coast, just a mile or so south of San Simeon leading into Big Sur, the small seaside village of Cambria is home to great people, beautiful weather and stunning coastal shoreline. For all you romantic lovers out there looking for a sweet spot for anniversaries or maybe your Valentines weekend, …
Orphan in Toledo
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 …
Posting and Parks
I don’t often post in the moment because I‘m either without reception or—most of the time—too caught up in the moment itself. This was a combination of the two, though by the looks of it, I am in the middle of taking a picture. Needless to say, I post a lot of pictures after the …
The Prado
Inspiration has many faces, and sometimes it can leave you spellbound to the point that you see no reason to do anything else, because you feel the overwhelming feeling that everything’s been done already. It’s why I’m wary of museums. Of course it’s a matter of perspective, depending on the individual and the choices they …
Plaza Mayor
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, …
nylon guitars & hearts in madrid
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 …
“What did I just see?”
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 …
Piano Player in a Vienna Cafe (Diglas)
at night rain falls neath soft neon lights between the old walls of Vienna, as people laugh & take in the sights and the piano plays for the end of days in a broken-down cafe I hear a song, sudden like a waltz some ancient dance I remember well the woman beneath the glass and …
El Camino Del Sol
An ancient creek breathes brand new Strayed off far enough found you unassuming, child lived a thousand years oblivious to the war the crime Do you know of time? Have you heard the news? What do you say? What’s to come through? Or do I ask too soon? Ancient creek Whispering softly, echoing mystery and flowing …
The Joy of Classical Music
Visions of Vltava (Moldau) I returned to the front desk the next morning and asked Orsolya for a few recommendations on things to do in town. I was interested in hearing some music, and I asked her for the best places to go and whether it was easy to get tickets to the State Opera …
Zion #9
You and I at twilight slow arrival of night, sweet delight day fades out of sight, a howling wind from within, rising Your arms surround me, take me in Zion hall of kings Rising tall as night falls, the silence it brings air is thin, time is still The sky quiet, silent hill You and …
Songs for the Sierra Nevada
I wrote these poems in the last few pages of a brown, tattered old pocket journal that I kept with me as I started into the Sierra Nevada, heading out of California and toward the east coast; seeing for the first time everything from General Sherman Tree to Yosemite Valley and the Tuolumne Meadows. I wrote …
Take Me to the River
I got to the hostel around 8. It was built into the top two floors of an otherwise mostly vacated building just a few blocks south of Andrassy Avenue, the main drag running through town. When I say town, I mean Pest, which flanks the east side of the River Danube. Together with Buda, on …
Budapest Hostel
My first order of business was to find the hostel I’d booked the night before. Knowing that maps/GPS wouldn’t work since I didn’t buy a data plan--and I wouldn’t have wi-fi unless I camped out at a cafe for a few minutes--I took a screenshot of the pinned location on the map the night before …
Gypsy Violins in Budapest
We’d heard news that the city was flooded with refugees seeking asylum from war-torn Syria. Everyone I spoke to was persuading me not to go to Budapest. But I had roots there, and I’d never been as to close to it as I was then. It was only a 7-hour train ride from Prague, so …
Time Will Tell
LOS ANGELES — I’d go to the cafe and work on lyrics, even try to pen the novel a few times. I never finished it, but I heard the boys—Jude, Cal, Sam and (mostly) Quinby—are making some good headway on it now, that they’re using Jude as the narrator; and that they’re writing the whole thing under …
Ren Michael 