Monday, August 19, 2013

Memory Arts Cafe in Prospect Park

Picnic in the Park

Special Guest: United States Poet Laureate, Natasha Trethewey

Please join for a Memory Arts Cafe field trip to Prospect Park. We will visit the Boathouse, watch swans glide on a lake and see a waterfall. We will take in the park’s most famous tree the “Camperdown Elm,” which was planted in Brooklyn in 1872. It’s one of only a few surviving trees in the world grafted from an elm on the estate of the Earl of Camperdown in Scotland.

Poet Gary Glazner will lead the group in the creation of a new poem inspired by the nature of Prospect Park. Yes! It will be an easy walk in the park.

In 2012, Trethewey was named as 19th U.S. Poet Laureate by the Library of Congress. Trethewey plans to travel to cities and towns across the country meeting with the general public to seek out the many ways poetry lives in American communities and report on her discoveries in a regular feature on the PBS NewsHour Poetry Series.

Tuesday, June 04, 2013

Memory Arts Cafe at Brooklyn Museum


Jesse Neuman and Stine Moen of Rhythm Break Cares Dance Company celebrate the Memory Arts Cafe one year anniversary at at the Brooklyn Museum. Photo credit Carole Debeer.

Wednesday, May 08, 2013

Memory Arts Cafe at Brooklyn Museum


MEMORY ARTS CAFÉ CELEBRATION
at the Brooklyn Museum
Saturday, May 25, 11 a.m.–12:30 p.m.
Rubin Pavilion, 1st Floor
Free

Individuals with Alzheimer’s disease, their caregivers, and the general public are all invited to join this celebration of the Memory Arts Café, featuring jazz trumpeter Jesse Neuman and the Rhythm Break Cares Dance Company with Stine Moen and Hooba. Coproduced by the Alzheimer’s Poetry Project, the Brooklyn Museum, and the New York Memory Center. Hosted by Gary Glazner of the Alzheimer’s Poetry Project. Reception to follow. Email: access@brooklynmuseum.org for more information. The Brooklyn Museum also presents Brooklyn Afternoons: Art and Conversation for Individuals with Memory Loss, a free monthly program that invites individuals with memory loss and their caregivers to explore the Museum’s collections together. Information at access@brooklynmuseum.org

The New York Memory Center is a Brooklynbased agency providing services to adults with cognitive, physical, and emotional limitations to help them enjoy life beyond diagnosis of memory loss. http://nymemorycenter.org/

The Memory Arts Café is sponsored, in part, by the Alzheimer’s Foundation of America, the Axe-Houghton Foundation, and the Greater New York Arts Development Fund of the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs, administered by the Brooklyn Arts Council.

Photo by Jonathan Dorado

Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Jack McCarthy RIP

Photo Credit Seattle Poetry Slam
In a week when the Washington Post publishes an article with the title, "Is Poetry Dead?" we have lost one of the poets whose work gave that question a resounding no.
Or as Keats said "...the poetry of the earth is never dead."

The Boston Globe called McCarthy a"...consummate storyteller whose métier was verse."

You may read his work and see videos of his performances at:
http://standupoet.net/

Here is a link to a tribute from fellow poets on IndieFeed at
http://indiefeedpp.libsyn.com/jack-mc-carthy-victory

Victor Infante wrote a beautiful piece in the Worcester Telegram:
http://www.telegram.com/article/20130118/COLUMN86/130119557/0

"Here and Now," on Boston's NPR Station has a podcast on Jack entitled
"Remembering a Slam Legand" at:
http://hereandnow.wbur.org/2013/01/25/jack-mccarthy-poetry

Memorial Services for McCarthy will take place at:

The Northeast memorial will take place on Saturday, February 9, 2013 at the Follen Unitarian Church in Lexington, Massachusetts at 2PM. The service will be followed by a reception at the church and an open mic at 6PM at the Chelmsford Public Library.

The Washington memorial service will be on Saturday, February 16, 2013 in Marysville, Washington at the Evergreen Unitarian Universalist Fellowship at 2PM, followed by a reception.

Finally, the California memorial service will be at 4PM on Saturday, March 2, 2013 at Beyond Baroque Literary/Arts Center in Venice, California.

Jack was much loved and one last rebuttal to the Washington Post who asked the age old question of if poetry can ever change anything, here is Jack's poem "Drunks." 

Write Bloody Press is publishing a book by Jack on recovery that includes "Drunks."
You can read on how the book came about in this lovely exchange of emails
between Jack and publisher/poet Derrick Brown on Write Bloody.

PS The Washington Post issued a retraction Poetry-is-not-Dead-Says-Poetry



Thursday, January 17, 2013

Valentine's Dance

New York Memory Center & Alzheimer’s Poetry Project Present
Valentine’s Dance at the Memory Arts Café

Memory Arts Café is a new series of free art events for people living with Alzheimer’s disease, their caregivers and the general public and is co-produced by New York Memory Center and the Alzheimer’s Poetry Project. The series, which takes place on the 2nd Wednesday of each month, includes light refreshments and the opportunity to chat with the guest artists.

This Memory Arts Café event features the dance company Rhythm Break Cares (RBC). Poet Gary Glazner will host the event.

Wednesday, February 13th, at 6 pm
New York Memory Center
199 14th Street at 4th Avenue • Brooklyn, NY 11215
(Take the R to Prospect Ave.)
For info: call (718) 499-7701 or visit alzpoetry.com



Please join us for an evening of fun, dancing and socializing. Rhythm Break Cares (RBC) takes a unique and highly effective approach to address the widespread and immediate needs of individuals with Alzheimer’s, associated dementias, and their caregivers, by engaging them in partner dance as a means to improve their quality of life. Since 2009, RBC has successfully offered this interesting form of dance therapy, which capitalizes on the demonstrated benefits of music, movement and touch. Their sessions provide a rare opportunity for patients and their caregivers to escape some of the burdens associated with Alzheimer’s and dementia, in a stress-free environment where they can observe, participate and be entertained.

Friday, November 16, 2012

Jim on Dementia Arts


Jim describes participating in the Memory Arts Cafe performance at IONA Senior Services on Thursday, Sept. 20th in Washington DC. The event was part of the Dementia Arts Festival and featured musician Judith-Kate Friedman, Songwriting Works, dancer Maria Genne, Kairos Alive! and poet Gary Glazner More info at dementiaarts.com

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Memory Arts Café

New York Memory Center & Alzheimer’s Poetry Project Present
Memory Arts Café
Brooklyn, NY – September 12, 2012 – Memory Arts Café is a new series of free art events for people living with Alzheimer’s disease, their caregivers and the general public and is co-produced by New York Memory Center and the Alzheimer’s Poetry Project. 

The series, which takes place on the 2nd Wednesday of each month, includes light refreshments and the opportunity to chat with the guest artists.

This Memory Arts Café event features Jesse Neuman, musician and Founder and Director of MusicWorks NYC. Poet Gary Glazner will host the event. 

Wednesday, October 10th, at 6 pm
New York Memory Center
199 14th Street at 4th Avenue 
Brooklyn, NY 11215
(Take the R to Prospect Ave.)
For info: call (718) 499-7701

Tuesday, August 28, 2012


National Center for Creative Aging & Alzheimer’s Poetry Project Present Dementia Arts Festival

We are thrilled to announce a series of performances focused on bringing attention to the expanding opportunities the arts bring to people with Alzheimer’s. The events take place at Washington DC assisted living and adult day care centers in support of the National Alzheimer’s Plan Act. For a full festival schedule please see dementiaarts.com.

Memory Arts Café Performance Thursday, September 20th, 6 to 8pm Iona Senior Services, 4125 Albemarle Street, Washington, DC 20016.

You are invited to a performance for people living with Alzheimer’s disease, their caregivers and the general public. New Mexico poet Stuart Hall reads work documenting his experience in living with dementia. Maria Genne, Kairos Dance and Judith-Kate Friedman, Songwriting Works and Gary Glazner, Alzheimer’s Poetry Project will lead the audience in the creation of a new performance. The event includes light refreshments and the opportunity to chat with the guest artists. We are excited to show an excerpt from Anne Bastings’ film “Penelope Project,” which documents the performance of using the Penelope story from Homer’s Odyssey to engage an entire long-term care community in the creative process and Songwriting Works’ new music video, “WWII Homecoming Song.”

Sponsored by the Alzheimer’s Association Washington DC Chapter, Center for Aging Heath and Humanities, Generations United, Iona Senior Services, and the Society Arts and Healthcare with support from the Alzheimer’s Foundation of America, the Helen Bader Foundation, the MetLife Foundation and the Pabst Charitable Foundation for the Arts.

Wednesday, August 01, 2012

Memory Arts Cafe, Wed. August 8th 6pm


New York Memory Center
and Alzheimer’s Poetry Project
Present Memory Arts Cafe

This Memory Arts Cafe event will highlight the artists of New York Memory Center in performance. They will lead the audience in the creation of new work featuring music, dance, poetry and collage. Poet Gary Glazner will host the event. PLUS a SUMMER BBQ!

The performers and artists include: Ismail Butera, Musician in Residence; David Azarch, Percussionist in Residence; Ruth Azarch, Artist; Pamela Lawton, Artist; Jennie Smith-Peers, Improv and the Rhythm Breaks Dance Group.

Wednesday, August 8th, at 6 pm
New York Memory Center

199 14th Street at 4th Avenue • Brooklyn, NY 11215
(Take the R to Prospect Ave.)
For info: call (718) 499-7701 or visit alzpoetry.com

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Memory Arts Cafe



Memory Arts Café is a new series of free art events for people living with Alzheimer’s disease, their caregivers and the general public and is co-produced by New York Memory Center and the Alzheimer’s Poetry Project. The series, which takes place on the 2nd Wednesday of each month, includes light refreshments and the opportunity to chat with the guest artists.

This Memory Arts Café event will feature dancer Heidi Latsky in performance and she will lead the audience in the creation of a new dance. Poet Gary Glazner will host the event.

Wednesday, July 11 at 6 pm New York Memory Center 199 14th Street at 4th Avenue • Brooklyn, NY 11215 (Take the R to Prospect Ave.) For info: call (718) 499-7701 or visit alzpoetry.com

"Latsky asks us to look at people for what they are capable of, rather than what they can't do." - The Washington Post

"Latsky…diminutive vessel of energy, concentration, and passion- personifies that state every dancer aspires to-in which intent and execution are one." -The Village Voice

About the performer: HEIDI LATSKY the Artistic Director of Heidi Latsky Dance has been a moving force in the dance world for many years, as a choreographer for stage, theater and film. Latsky initially received recognition as a celebrated principal dancer for Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Dance. In addition to creating more than fifteen works for Heidi Latsky Dance, Latsky has been commissioned to create new work by the Cannes International Dance Festival, American Dance Festival, the Joyce Theater: Altogether Different Festival, Performance Space 122, 92nd Street Y, Alvin Ailey Dance Center, and the Whitney Museum of American Art. Heidi Latsky Dance was a recipient of a 2006 rehearsal residency at the Baryshnikov Arts Center and a residency at the Abrons Arts Center, 2009 where GIMP premiered. Latsky is an innovator in disability arts. Her piece GIMP features four trained dancers and four performers who have physical disabilities. It turns on its head accepted notions of dance, performance and body image. Latsky and company have created a piece of work that is a natural and completely unique vehicle for dialogue, increased understanding and civic engagement.

Saturday, May 12, 2012

Memory Arts Café


 New York Memory Center & Alzheimer’s Poetry Project Launch

New York State’s First Memory Arts Café
Memory Arts Café is a new series of free art events for people living with Alzheimer’s disease, their caregivers and the general public, and is co-produced by New York Memory Center and the Alzheimer’s Poetry Project. The series takes place on the 2nd Wednesday of each month and includes light refreshments and the opportunity to chat with the guest artists. 


Wednesday, June 13 at 6 pm
New York Memory Center
199 14th Street at 4th Avenue • Brooklyn, NY 11215
(Take the R to Prospect Ave.)
For info: call (718) 499-7701 or visit alzpoetry.com


About the performers:
Legendary jazz critic, Nat Hentoff, has praised Roger’s work as "the most joyously encouraging way of expanding the audience for jazz."  In partnership with the NYC Alzheimer Association Chapter and jazz singer, Peter Eldridge, Ms. Rogers has produced two Alzheimer's benefit concerts entitled “For Those We Love.” (louiserogers.org)
The Boston Globe wrote of pianist, composer, educator, and bandleader Mark Kross "Kross digs hard with a bright contemporary piano style with Monkish bop influences.” He is the Head of the Music Department at the Middlesex School, an independent high school in Concord, MA and has released five CD’s with his band, The Mark Kross Five-Piece Trio.
About the producers:
Founded in 1983, the mission of New York Memory Center is to help older adults who have cognitive, physical, and emotional limitations, to maintain or improve their level of functioning so that they may enjoy their later years at home and within the community. Through an innovative wellness center, New York Memory Center meets the needs of individuals living with Alzheimer’s and related dementia disorders and their Caregivers. NYMC offers two primary programs: Lotus Club, an early intervention and support program for those experiencing the earliest stages of Alzheimer’s and related dementias; and Memory Life Services, a program which provides more extensive services suitable for adults in the community with middle to later stage memory loss. For additional information, please visit nymemorycenter.org.
Gary Glazner founded the Alzheimer’s Poetry Project (APP) in 2004. The APP was awarded the 2012 MetLife Foundation Creativity and Aging in America Leadership Award in the category of Community Engagement. The National Endowment for the Arts listed the APP as a “best practice” for their Arts and Aging initiative. NBC's “Today” show, NPR's “All Things Considered” and Voice of America have featured segments on the APP.

Monday, March 19, 2012

Carnegie Hall- Clint Needham- When We Forget

Thrilled to announce this Saturday, March 24th at 7pm at Carnegie Hall is the world premier of "When We Forget," by the composer Clint Needham which was inspired by my poem, "We Are Forget." You may hear part of the composition at: Dementia Weekly Blog

Needham writes about his experience as a father of twins leading him to think about memories of their lives and how that led him to research memory. During his research he came on the Alzheimer's Poetry Project website and my poem, "We Are Forget," which he generously credits as his inspiration. I was knocked out when he wrote me a few months ago to tell me about the composition.

The piece was commissioned by the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra more on them at:http://www.orpheusnyc.com/about.html

We Are Forget
Gary Glazner

We are the words we have forgotten.
We are shifting and pacing.
We wrote this poem.
It’s a pretty poem.
Can you bake a cherry pie?
Never more, never more.
We have no horizon.
We don’t recall washing or eating
or what you just said.
Ask me my name.
Ask me if I have children?
You’re a pretty lady.
You have beautiful eyes.
Wash me, put me to bed clean,
hold me as I fall asleep.
Give me a kiss, brush my hair.
You are my daughter?
Light washing over us moment, moment.
You’re a handsome man.
Our hand writing is beautiful
twists and loops of letters
we can’t remember our hands.
Our ears are wishful
we can’t remember our ears.
We can speak every language,
we can’t remember our mouths.
We are porous.
We are the past.
We are forget.

Thursday, December 15, 2011

The Tumbleweed Hotel


Sad news about George Whitman passing. Like so many people Margaret and I spent a week in Paris at Shakespeare and Company as his guests. Our thoughts are with Sylvia and her family. Here is a story from Ears on Fire about our week with George.

Every substance has a burning point at which any increase in temperature causes a burst of flame. When we travel we know the history of places that once grew to fire. We search them out hoping a little spark will be left. A glow on which to warm our hands to feel what Rome was like. To stumble into a café and find Picasso and Appolonaire. Mostly we are groping in the dark unable to feel that heat.

Paris life is fascinating. Full of gorgeous flirty people, full of stunning flirty history, statues, paintings, lights, action. Still, as a newcomer you can walk for days awed by the beauty but feel the prime is gone, a city of museums, a keeper of relics. Hemingway once drank beer in this café. This is where Sartre and De Bouliver huddled. Would you like a seven-dollar cup of coffee?

Then you turn into Shakespeare and Company bookstore, sitting on the bank of the Seine across from Notre Dame. George Whitman is at the helm and you are thrust into the thick of the book. The pages swirl, turn around you. Open your mouth let the words spill. You are a character sleeping in the Tumbleweed Hotel, the rooms above the bookstore.

I hear a voice so close to Lawrence Ferlinghetti’s I have to look to see if it is he. This is when I realize how much the two men have gotten from each other and how much these two book-sellers/ writers share. Whitman handsome and sharp at 84 is holding a blackened-bottom mess kit frying pan. He comes into his bookstore. The clerk shows him his recent straightening up of the shelves, to which George replies, “Good, yes they look good.” I ask him how the Tumbleweed Hotel is doing. Sizing me up, says,
“I can book you a room for two.”
“Well we are leaving to catch a train in a few hours.”
“Where are you from?”
“San Francisco.”
“What is your occupation?”
“Poet.”
“Then for God’s sake you have to stay, we’re having a pancake breakfast tomorrow morning, a tea party in the afternoon and a poet from Bengal is reading on Monday.”
“We’ll take it.”
The clerk hands me the keys.
“Go on, it’s two flights up; the big double bed in the back.”
“What do you think of San Francisco’s poet laureate?”
“Tell me they chose Ferlinghetti, we’ve been traveling since February.”
“Who else? You’ll be staying in his bed.”

The front room is books from floor to ceiling. Entering the back bedroom, you enter a sanctuary. The walls here are half bookshelves and half photo gallery. Copies of photos of Anais Nin, Henry Miller, Lawrence Durell, all with inscriptions to George. Photos of George as a young man around the blazing fire of the wishing well, where they held the readings. I pick up a book, a play by Picasso, The Second Sex, and Ginsberg’s collected poems and see that they all are signed. The feeling of the authors presence is strong, they had slept here, drank here, written here. Now it was my turn.

Where are you from? It is a question we all ask, gives us a magnet, a pull. Where? Why not? Each shard of light from the sun, each moment from the bell. I look in you, the mirror. I am from here knowing the lie. What are you made of? We ask when that fails.
I am sweet of air molecules. I am from Paris, but that will not last, the last free room in the world.

I look down to the Seine. I see a woman drawing; she includes me in her sketch. I include her in this poem. She is tiny, far away. She leans on the wall. I search for words to describe her. I wonder where she is from. She kneels down. Her paper rippling in the wind. She packs up, walks towards Notre Dame. I can still see her. She stops, sits down, looks for an angle, anything to capture with her hand, puts it down on paper, and lodges it in her memory. She has found it, takes out her tools, begins to work, gives up, ascends the steps, going back from were she came.

The light on the tour bus rests on the woman’s hair. The cobblestones. The spires,
gargoyles shinning. The cars are full of laughter. Everyone knows where he or she is going. Where they are coming from. So why is it so hard to answer? Do you need a map? Are you your job? Are you your body? Your mind?

Is this a Buddha quest? Buddha questions? What is this a maze? To hold the miniature Minotaure? Keep him in a cage. Yes, the question binds to you as well as any handcuffs. You are from where you are, we all can see that in the mirror; just look.

George is down-stairs, in front of the bookstore. He is dressed in coat and tie. He is from here. From inside these walls. He makes his home. Opens it like a monastery of the word. Why would he ever want to be from somewhere else? Paris. Here comes the mailman, another letter, four decades of mail. George watches him walk away.

I find letters to George tucked away in books from many of the writers who have stayed here, a museum of words, a temple of skill.

For over 40 years, George has presided over his bookstore. It has been his passion, his view of the world. You may be asked to stay, given a room. Thousands of people have been his guests. He never asks for a penny. All he asks for is an autobiography just a word or two about you. Wants to know where you are from? Of course sometimes he shouts at people, shouts, “Where is my damn autobiography?” or “Who left the skin on this pumpkin, I thought you said you could cook!” Once quietly he said, “You say you are a poet but even your wife doesn’t believe you.”

Ok George, here it is:
Oklahoma, Texas, New York, California, Paris.
Eighteen years I worked in a florist. Always the plan to use the money to become a poet
Now I am.
Because of you, I live here now, so this is where I am from as much as anywhere. Your kingdom of words that line up and dance, a can-can of wisdom! Showing their naked butts to the world, bare ass books, open their dresses, and flash the light of the goddess. O purple prose will you ever fail me?

Where? It is a map to your heart. A peg to hang your skin.

Where is George from? Once he was from Panama, as he writes in the Panama American on April 3, 1938:
“Panama! It has a sonorous sound for an Indian Word. In aboriginal language, it means the land of bountiful fish. To the Spaniards, it meant gold. But to me Panama is a tiny dot on a map of the earth, which I have drawn at odd moments. Between this dot and other similar dots there stretches a red line. This line represents the trajectory of the journey I am working around the world. It twists back and fourth from Greenland to Tiara Del Fuego, from Cape Town Africa to Urga Mongolia. Through all six continents and seven seas.”

But where is he from originally?
“I was born in New Jersey, lived 15 years in Salem Massachusetts. Home of the daring sea captains who sailed the famous clipper ships to China and India. I spent a year in China, where my father taught at Nanking University. I traveled through Turkey, Greece, and Europe, when I was a boy of 12. Studied journalism at Boston U: I am now roughing it around the world in order to get a background for journalistic work later on.”

Later George would fall in love with books. Would root, grow into Paris. Cut him open count the rings. See this year was good for poetry. This is a translation, a transcription a neurotransmitter crossing a synapse, a spark throbbing inside.

Today the bookstore is closed. The movie crew is making the inside of the bookstore look like the inside of a bookstore! Catherine Deneuve is nowhere in sight. I am an erect baguette. I sense you looking into my pigeon eyes. A group of children walks by holding hands. Please stop reading and hold my hand. Now I feel safe. Inside this book where you have found me. Are you a detective or just lonely? So many poets have slept here it feels like an orgy, just lying here reading; “Excuse me Ferlinghetti would you please pass me Anais Nin?”

Yesterday at the tea party a woman told a story of how when she was a little girl her parents brought her to see a friend of theirs, “Now don’t be alarmed she loves a tree.”
The woman brought the little girl into the backyard; “They must have told you I’m mad, in love with a tree.” She threw her arms around the trunk and hugging it said, “When you can have this why would you want a man?” Arbor-sexual This is something like around here, Biblio-sexual. You may love books, but please be careful with your thrusting, and never use your tongue for a bookmark. That’s word from the river Seine, where all the children are tumbleweeds and the bookseller an angel in disguise.

The poet from Bengal does not show up. George asks if I would like to give the reading. Because of the film crew, we moved the reading upstairs to the writer’s apartment. Some students from Madrid, and a few regulars. I read my reply to Shakespeare’s Sonnet 130, called “Dear Mr. Sonnet 130”, had one of the guys read the lines from Shakespeare. Then I read in the dark woman’s voice. If the Bengali poet had showed up I wouldn’t have gotten to read. My resume would never have truly reflected where I am from poetically speaking. I am from Shakespeare and Company; I am the poet in residence.
This is my address:
37 Rue De La Bucherie, 75005, Paris France.
Please write me soon...

Shakespeare and Company is a pilgrimage, a monument, each time I look out of the window someone is taking a photo of the store. They will take it back from where they are from, put it in an album and say I was there.

Here let me show you around the place. That is were Simon touched the tip of her pen to the “Second Sex.” Here is where Ginsberg clipped his beard. This refrigerator contains food made by Sylvia Beach for Pound. Now step in here this is the bedroom so full of ghosts, I think the cockroach on my forehead at night is Henry Miller.
“Get out, I shout, I am the poet in residence!”
“Flee,” I say.
“Fleas,” he replies.
Then he starts to go on and on about the light in Greece.
“I’ve been there,” I say. “You forgot to tell them about the salads.”
He rolls over goes back to sleep. All of us who have slept here dropping like flies, back to where we came from.

Writers are supposed to be quiet, so why do I feel like shouting out of the window? Shouting out my poems? Flinging open the window, letting Paris in. Lots of Paris, all the streets, all the lobster walking poets. Letting them hear me,
“Get out of my way you language bastards! I’m trying to write.”
So I grab the metal bar, rip open the window. Spewing out my poem.
The Gargoyles start giggling. “Another poet,” they spit.
“Another poet giving a reading from an open window. Who? Who?” They chime.
“Go back to America! Go home Yankee boy writer. Zoot!”
High noon show down.
“This town ain’t big enough.”
Shouts, Gerard de Nerval
“I am the most horrible creature.”
“No, I am.”
On and on, until he jumps into a pot of boiling water. Dissolving like a snail in salt.
I notice the streetlights are on at noon. No wonder they call this place the City of Lights.

Here are the facts:
This place is a rite, a ritual. The secret to George, to the Tumbleweed Hotel, to Shakespeare and Company, is that he is empty. You must enter him. As Jonah did the whale. See the world through his eyes. Through his windows. He takes off his mask and there is the face you thought was yours. The faces of all whom have stayed here. Swallowed by the stories. Why worry about myths when you can dance? Why not take his hand? It is open. Just reach out. All he asks is to paint a self-portrait with words. Wants your memories. He houses them and they feed him. Can you imagine his hunger? Forget etiquette and precedence this is a fire. You are common that’s reassuring. We are fallen, let us enter the door together. The gates of the bazaar. Into the word department. Let’s order a full meal. Let us draw the human figure. Naked waiting for someone to offer us love. O mischievous bookseller, who holds your council? Whom have you not blessed? A sign? Of course and a caravan. Let us all pull up stakes and head off to Paris. Let us not judge. I erect a statue in your honor. I require myself to seek out your methods, your saintliness, and your glory.