October 27, 2022

Postcards from Arizona

Posted in Uncategorized tagged , , , at 11:46 am by chavisory

Tucson is lovely in a way I didn’t know how to expect. It’s greener than I thought it would be. It feels a little bit stuck in time, in a different way than parts of upstate New York do. Part of it is the weather, and part of it is the quiet, and part of it is almost literally being in a time zone unto ourselves (since Arizona doesn’t observe Daylight Savings, it’s part of the Mountain Time Zone for part of the year, and part of the Pacific for the other part).

One of the strangest things is how early it gets very dark. The clouds are astonishing every single night.

New Yorkers kept talking about this place as if it were a Republican hotbed, but there are Support Ukraine and Climate Action Now! yard signs everywhere.

Trains, both freight and Amtrak, run close by my loft all night and it reminds me of a friend’s place back in Athens. Radio towers remind me uncannily of the ones in the Selenetic Age in Myst, where I’m still stuck in a game I haven’t played since February.

There are a lot of tattoo studios, a lot of ice cream parlors, and a lot of feral cats. A fluffy black one seems to be the night patrol of our block, and a green-eyed tabby crosses my patio wall in the mornings. There are wind chimes somewhere I can hear but can’t see. There’s a bird with a strange, complaining call who’s always too fast for me to glimpse.

The grasshoppers are enormous.

Browsing in a local head shop, I find the “I Want to Believe” poster in their stacks. The Moody Blues’ “Nights in White Satin” comes up on the shop playlist, and I want to tell my 14-year-old self things she wouldn’t understand or believe.

It’s a beautiful fall day, and you’re in a hippie shop in Arizona. The Moody Blues are playing and people still love the X-Files. You’re 40 and you’re here for work because you have a career in theater. Also you just survived your first global pandemic. There’s a café that will make you an Irish coffee. Everyone here has tattoos, and so do you. There’s a bar that doesn’t treat you like you’re strange if you go there to watch baseball and write letters.

A plaque says Jascha Heifetz played at the dedication of the theater here. The church downtown has a mosaic of the lyrics to my favorite hymn, and the bookstore carries my preferred brands of planner and notebooks, which is good because I should’ve but I didn’t bring a spare one.


A young man approaches me on the sidewalk one night. He sounds German or maybe Dutch and he’s asking me where the Old something-or-other is, and at first I say “Sorry, I just got here, I don’t know anything!” before I realize exactly which establishment he’s looking for, and luckily, it’s one of the three or so things I do know.

April 17, 2022

A small visual poem (not by me)

Posted in Uncategorized tagged , , at 2:07 pm by chavisory

From my evening walk in the park last night.

January 5, 2022


Posted in Uncategorized tagged , , , at 11:44 am by chavisory

[Image description: A single drop of water hangs from a twig of a bare, reddish brown tree branch, against a gray-blue sky.]

From a walk in the park a couple of days ago, a fitting image I thought for the start of a new year when many things still feel impending.

July 11, 2021


Posted in Uncategorized tagged , at 6:02 pm by chavisory

[Image is of a pastel-colored evening sky, from rosy orange near the horizon to deep blue higher up, over the surface of a lake and horizon line of dark trees. Fluffy gray clouds are backlit by the sun so they look tinted orange in places.]

Spent some time back home in the Midwest recently, seeing family again and catching up on views like this.

April 20, 2021

Evening blossoms

Posted in Uncategorized tagged , , at 6:05 pm by chavisory

Dogwood blossoms from my walk in the park yesterday evening.

February 28, 2021

I want to believe

Posted in Uncategorized tagged , , at 1:30 pm by chavisory

[Image is of the brick wall of a pedestrian underpass tunnel, lit by warm sunlight, with a pair of shadows roughly forming an ‘X’ shape.]

On a warm day in the park when the snow had started melting, I caught this serendipitous arrangement of shadows on an afternoon walk in the Ravine.

There are so many things I want to believe these days.

February 2, 2021

Sorry, friend, no snacks today!

Posted in Uncategorized tagged , , , at 3:16 pm by chavisory

Image is of a fluffy grey-brown squirrel, cautiously edging towards me on the snow-covered handrail of a wooden bridge over a creek in Central Park.

December 30, 2020


Posted in Uncategorized tagged , , , at 7:07 pm by chavisory

I went out on a final hike of the year yesterday, since it was supposed to be cold but clear. The inlet of Spuyten Duyvil Creek was mostly a frozen mud flat, but whether due to natural currents or use by water birds, some little rivulets remained free-flowing.

November 30, 2020

Riverside, November

Posted in Uncategorized tagged , , at 6:26 pm by chavisory

I was finally lured onto Instagram, despite not really wanting another social media platform, by a combination of the fact that it’s becoming ever more important in theaters’ publicity and marketing strategies (or at least it was before the shutdown, and I presume it will continue to be afterward) and some artists I really wanted to follow.

This is one of the first photos I was playing with filtering, from a recent evening walk in Riverside Park.

A squirrel and I nearly gave each other a mutual heart attack shortly before I snapped this picture, as I was leaning over this wall to take a breather just as he was coming up over the edge from the woods below.

October 17, 2020

Good morning from the anarchist jurisdiction

Posted in Uncategorized tagged , , at 10:20 pm by chavisory

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