What a day to grab the wrong camera.
Halfway through my Saturday morning hike, I halted, my eye caught by a one-eyed cartoon skull, right next to it a despairing graffiti tag, both prominently displayed in front of a tidy, freshly-painted yoga studio.
Stop, set down my backpack, let the dog nose around in the grass, avoid eye contact with the guy a half block up the street pounding a cigarette case on the sidewalk, pull out my camera bag--well, crap. I'd grabbed the old camera. The one with grit in the lens, which makes whirring, electronic complaining noises instead of a satisfying capturing click.
I walked on.
Over the next hour I spotted more amazing creations--a tunnel wall crammed with colorful tags and images. A phrase spray-painted on the backside of a dumpster: WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE? Even a smirking Frasier Crane.
The creative gods were mocking me. Ideas are everywhere and you may capture--none.
There's a shadow constantly hovering at my shoulder. For all my gallivanting into the social whirl, nevermind the positive social media...
Ever wondered what it takes to get a piece of fiction published? I'm not talking New Yorker type of prose. That's a rarefied world ...
Check out my new video, a brief reading from a story published this past spring in Opossum.
Welp, after a half-year experiment in social media, BSP has returned to its blogger roots. I hated Faceborkland, tbh. Sure, it was easier t...