an old writer and his words

  • THIS IS NOT: AN APOLOGY

    This is an apology I never wantedor thought I would have to write butnow, my grandchildren, it is necessary. This is not the world I wantedto leave to you, what I had hopedwas a world at peace, a world whereyou could be anything without beingjudged or shunned, where wordshad meaning and books were treasures. Instead…

    Lou Faber

  • WHAT WOULD YOU SAY

    I am just wonderingwhat you would sayif you were calledto testify about allthat you had seen,all that had disgusted you,all that you condemnedbut did and saidnothing while it occurred.What would you sayif you had no choicebut truth, no shading,no mincing of words,just the harsh lightand you in a chairin an empty room,a disembodied voiceasking endless…

    Lou Faber

  • LINES

    We love drawing lines and borders. There are few things we do better than that. But increasingly we have lost our once finely honed skill at placing them where they ought to be. I won’t even get into walls on borders to keep out families, those like our families were once. I mean small lines…

    Lou Faber

  • THOSE WHO CAN’T DO (OR TEACH)

    “You know,” she said, “it is the critics, they are the real problem, all holy and self-proclaimed arbiters of taste, deciding what is and is not art, as if God spoke late one night and declared to each one that he or she and only he or she would determine what is art.” I wanted…

    Lou Faber