Postcards from the Edge or: New York State of Mind

A powerful story of initiation and breaking open the head and what it’s like to be dogged by Gods and spirits.

Europa's Children

(The picture above was taken at the White House Hotel.  I knew the resident who owned this picture: his entire cubicle was wallpapered with pictures of the Madonna).

I came to New York because I had nowhere else to go.

Growing up in Montrose, Pennsylvania the Village Voice was culture, wit, sophistication — everything Montrose was, wasn’t.  The Voice arrived at Corky’s Deli and Magazine Stand each week, sitting beside Sports Illustrated and Custom Vans like a shining beacon of something better. From the time I was 13 the Voice was my ticket to dreams of art I would never see, concerts I would never hear, friends I would never have.

Now it is late summer 1994: I am twenty-nine years old and awakening fitfully on a discarded sofa in upper Tribeca. The Voice is free in Manhattan now: so is the New York Press. I crumpled up half a dozen copies…

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Posted on April 1, 2017, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Comments Off on Postcards from the Edge or: New York State of Mind.

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