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The Indefinite Article.

Wednesday, May 12, 2004


I want God, I want poetry,
I want danger, I want freedom,
I want goodness, I want sin.
-Aldous Huxley

This is the opening quote in the new book I'm reading, "Fierce Invalids Home From Hot Climates," by Tom Robbins -- I love Tom Robbins -- his words are so luscious and rich, like chocolate cake he makes me squirm and salivate with anticipation as I seek the mental fulfillment and inspiration that only a handful of writers inspire ... for me, it's Tom Robbins, Salman Rushdie, and Gabriel Garcia Marquez ... all the others are as dull as dirt in comparison.

More from Tom's new book:

Butterflies were delicate and gossamer, but this moth possessed strength and weight. Its heavy wings were powdered like the face of an old actress. Butterflies were presumed to be carefree, moths were slaves to a fiery obsession. Butterflies seemed innocuous, moths somehow ... erotic. The dust of a moth was a sexual dust.

I love it, I love it, I love it!!

So, anyway ... everyone, pick up a copy of the new Esquire if you can -- Anthony's got 7 illustrations in their special travel destinations section -- should be very cool ...

And, a photographer from the New York Post was at our apartment yesterday photographing the garden -- they're doing an article on New York container gardens so they interviewed me and took a couple hundred photos ... they said to look for it in either this Saturday's real estate section or the following Saturday, but you know how unpredictable these things can be ...


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