Suddenly I'm a color whore. I mean that in the very best sense.
For years I wore mostly black, gravitated to black and white photographs, movies, art, obsessed over the entire monochromatic palette of sooty black, charcoal, dove gray, a right-and-tight white.
Now though I can't get enough color, including these Day-Glo objets in a shop window on lower QA, and the fab blue chairs outside Trabant on Pioneer Square.
Maybe it's why I'm fascinated with crows, corvidae snatchers and super-hoarders of all things bright and shiny.
Voicelessness and despair aside--snarky I know--it's been an insanely busy week. Last Thursday I had the pleasure of ushering with a g...
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...