Today’s ‘ku from tinywords.com:

war on the way
I pull enormous weeds
from my tiny garden

-Margarita Engle

Pope John Paul II has beatified Marco d’Aviano, a monk who is said to have invented cappuccino. Read the full story at bbc.com.

Today is National Pinhole Day.

I know it’s last minute, but if you’re in the NYC area, you can join in the fun:

And if you can’t make it, here’s the photograph I’ll be exhibiting at the show:

What? You don’t know what is this “pinhole photography” thingy? Think of it as low-dough happy-accident-prone photography. To learn more, you can start with a google.

In 1995 I spent nine days being a rock star. The management company for our band, Psychomagnet, brought us from Pennsylvania to the Big Apple to work with a Real New York Producer (a friend of the singer’s who, it would appear, has done very nicely for himself) to record an album. We would scrape ourselves off the floor of our manager’s Jersey City condo every morning, hop on a bus, creep through the Lincoln tunnel, then walk to the studio. We were under no circumstances to arrive before the ungodly hour of noon. But this story is not about Rock & Roll.

Every morning, the walk from Port Authority to the studio would take us right by the Empire State building. One morning we left a little early and tacked on an 86 floor detour.

I still remember quite clearly standing on that windy observation deck, feeling scarily exposed, even though I was safely cradled by those tall, curving safety bars. I remember looking through those bars out across the cityscape, looking out at all that vast city way out and way down there, and the most dramatic thing I could see was the pigeons, just two feet away from me, on the other side of the bars, standing fearlessly right on the edge and looking back at me. I could swear they were wondering just what the fuck I was doing in a cage.

I remember taking photographs of these heroic birds through the bars, feeling very strongly the lack of wings which kept me in my cage.

I made the photographs, but I could never seem to lay my hands on them. My memory of taking them was so clear, but I could never find the film — the proof. Until now. Last week I processed some random, unmarked film I’ve had laying around for ever. At the end of the process I pulled the film out of the fixer and — POW! There they were — my empire heroes. Eight years later, the shots are just as good as I remembered. (If I may be so bold.) Unable to keep them to myself, I now present them to you. Enjoy.

Ingredients:

China Mieville, “King Rat”
Massive Attack, “100th Window”
“Ocean’s Eleven”

Pour equal parts in a tall glass. Drink. Call me next week.

Nearly pornographic to watch myself delight in the starp, metallic sting of the needle. The light shines solid. I drool in the warm bath as the data flows and my personal relationships dissolve around me. Mainline — another wire junkie hooks up.