The Death and Life of Jane Jacobs

I didn't know really know anything about city planning and development when I moved to Providence, a city coming undone at the seams. Jane Jacobs's The Death and Life of Great American Cities made me feel like my instinctual drive toward systemic change was worthwhile; and that "expertise" was fairly meaningless compared to "experience" when it came to living, writing, and documenting. That outsiders could truly make a difference, could transform history simply by having the confidence to publish their ideas and spark debate.

Jane Jacobs died Tuesday. She was 89 years old.
And a Canadian citizen at the time.

Goodbye, Goodness

When I dared to bring home a book blurbed by Stephen Malkmus
I thought for sure I was going too far into my indie fangrrrl world.
Too far for even my Iota Ro Nu friends.
That people would quietly mock me beneath a veil of empathy.
Forever.
That I would write The Malk demanding my money back.
But it was also an Open City book and I figured I had good odds.

Turns out Goodbye, Goodness is really good indie rock and, in its way, one of the better contemporary American novels I've read in years. Disenchantment, mental collapse, Annie Oakley, bad clubs, driving and driving, John LeCarre, a head wound, and a singer-songwriter friend.
I'm not at the end just yet so I'm hedging my bets (especially after the pain I suffered finishing Fortress of Solitude), but Sam Brumbaugh is really good at noodling--as they say--so I'm not even sweatin' it.

Start clicking away and buying now.

...Or now.

I Own Every Bell That Tolls Me

photos by
NICK LORDEN

A New Path to the Waterfall

I have a hard time talking to people.
Sometimes.
Except when I don't.
Reading tonight felt really good.
Stretching after a long nap.

If I still lived in a place that had spring...
I would be gleaming right now.