LA/DC/NYC

between the passive, sterile environment of planes and airports, there is one large city of concrete, greasy steel, and elegant line; of static images and the mobile living and all shades in between (films -so many films); rain on battered brick;warm nights of skin and sweat and sheet and hair; dancing till 5 am, crying with a friend coping with cancer; Irma Thomas wailing through the night streets where the girls' dresses are brighter than the neon signs above them. Above it all, the moon, growing full and fat to remind me how little it all is....