FICTION: LETTER FROM KYOTO (From VR: The Journey of S)
Hirakata, South of Kyoto V: Journey with me, for a few minutes, into the future and the land of the imagination, and let me tell you a story about my astonishing day here at the... More »
Hirakata, South of Kyoto V: Journey with me, for a few minutes, into the future and the land of the imagination, and let me tell you a story about my astonishing day here at the... More »
Kyoto : V: I am just groggy enough from all the flights it took to get here from Katmandu that I am hearing what sounds like Jimmy Buffet singing “Wastin’ away again in Kurosawaville.”... More »
Cairo: V: I know that you are in Istanbul this week, but I could swear I’ve seen you several times now. A flicker of a profile at the cinema. A face peering from... More »
Florence V: Found a cozy monastic room in an old palazzo overlooking the city. Crumbling walls, soft pastel earth tones everywhere. Well-tended formal gardens, filled with herbs and roses! Long rows of sentinel... More »
Venice V: Missed train to Trieste. Ended up in Venice. Had some additional Active Imagination sessions with Carl (Jung) that I wouldn't have missed for the world. People are quite afraid of him, but... More »
Florence V. To tell you that I am speechless would be untrue (is a writer ever speechless? I think not), but I will tell you that I am overwhelmed with synchronicity-ness. I have just... More »
Excerpt from The Twenty Third Century Novel Venice V: Missed train to Trieste. Ended up in Venice. Had some additional Active Imagination sessions with Carl (Jung) that I wouldn't have missed for the world.... More »
An Excerpt from The Twenty Third Century Novel Zurich V: Here in Zurich for a few days on my way to Greece, then Japan. Had tea yesterday with the most amazing man, a... More »
En route: Lago Maggiore V: Here for a few days to tidy up my presentation for the Virtual Reality conference in Kyoto. And of course this raises all of... More »
Giverney: V: The most wondrous afternoon at Giverney, walking where Monet walked, everything bathed in the clear Old Masters light of early autumn, the poplars beginning to burn with slow fire. His paintings are... More »