Found out my friend Ryan passed away last year. We met at the Canoga Park Art Walk a few years back…I typed him a poem, he showed me his drawings. Young guy. Potential. We stayed in touch, hanging out and talking, reflecting. The last time we talked, he told me he was focusing on recovery. Addiction uses our mind/body as a feasting ground. How to … Continue reading Typewriter Poem: “With Ink” (New Typewriter Poetry)
Mika came up to me the first day I typed in Princeton. She was excited, alive–no hesitation in her stance or her talk. I admit, I was surprised to encounter someone like her in Princeton of all places. We connected with an immediacy reserved for those who fully recognize one another. (Full disclaimer: Mika offered me a delicious crepe while I typed for her, and also invited me out for drinks with friends later that night, so I might be a tad bit biased.)
Being among other Valley folk is inspirational, especially if you’re at the Canoga Park Art Walk.
No longer held in alleys, we’ve taken over the streets. Artists, vendors, food trucks, and musicians alike are neatly gathered along Owensmouth and Sherman Way as day parts into night. It gives the art walk a festive, open feel rather than a claustrophobic clutter of foot traffic.