an old writer and his words

  • THE OTHER WORLD

    He pendulated between two worlds,always on the fine edge of transition.Night brought amniotic dreamsthat washed away the digital bondsthe day had fashioned from his thoughts.Here was a freedom that reality detested.Here there were no walls, only open doorsand he could freely wander his psychewithout impediments, without that voicethat was always perched on the razor’sedge of…

    Lou Faber

  • PLACE NAME HERE

    Among all of the so-called artswriting does stand alone.How often have you seen arthanging on gallery wallsand look at the card next to itto see what the work is calledand find that all too uniquitous title,UNTITLED, as if the artist’s powerof language escaped into his brushes.And let’s not talk about composer’swhose work is later numberedand…

    Lou Faber