Essays and rock & roll. Looking and listening. Nostalgia versus skepticism.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Stiff weeds stubborn in pavement cracks, once private rooms open to the elements, a check-in desk brutalized—an abandoned motel fascinates for the range of human experience that's now only a series of transparencies, each more blurry than the one its covers, ghosts of children and adults who lived simply or desperately, tritely or profoundly, weeping or laughing, and sleeping and waking. Glimpsed and then gone for good.