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please don't ever say 'i do' when, clearly babe, you just don't.

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/ womb, we all just want to feel safe & loved summer 2009 syracuse new york

So here I am, in the middle way, having had twenty years—
Twenty years largely wasted, the years of l'entre deux guerres
Trying to use words, and every attempt
Is a wholly new start, and a different kind of failure
Because one has only learnt to get the better of words
For the thing one no longer has to say, or the way in which
One is no longer disposed to say it. And so each venture
Is a new beginning, a raid on the inarticulate
With shabby equipment always deteriorating
In the general mess of imprecision of feeling,
Undisciplined squads of emotion. And what there is to conquer
By strength and submission, has already been discovered
Once or twice, or several times, by men whom one cannot hope
To emulate—but there is no competition—
There is only the fight to recover what has been lost
And found and lost again and again: and now, under conditions
That seem unpropitious. But perhaps neither gain nor loss.
For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business.

Home is where one starts from. As we grow older
The world becomes stranger, the pattern more complicated
Of dead and living. Not the intense moment
Isolated, with no before and after,
But a lifetime burning in every moment
And not the lifetime of one man only
But of old stones that cannot be deciphered.
There is a time for the evening under starlight,
A time for the evening under lamplight
(The evening with the photograph album).
Love is most nearly itself
When here and now cease to matter.
Old men ought to be explorers
Here or there does not matter
We must be still and still moving
Into another intensity
For a further union, a deeper communion
Through the dark cold and the empty desolation,
The wave cry, the wind cry, the vast waters
Of the petrel and the porpoise. In my end is my beginning.

/ excerpt from quartet 2: east coker of ts eliots four quartets

/ and oh! how much i miss you baby when you are away.. brooklyn ny 2011

/ new arrival from paris! all magazine - 12 page color spread + bio!

thanks again to my mom for the photos (i have all media sent to my parents home bc my mail in brooklyn is not reliable aka my mailbox does not lock..) <3

'when i found them together i felt

the need to destroy. he ran

under the piano like a mouse.

while the dagger was handy nothing

could keep me from breaking

through the shell of her body.

i did not weep or kill myself.

only seeing her in the coffin

could make me understand. the flowers

grew out of her breasts like bloodstains.

how often in russia we say, "forgive me,"

when we only mean, "good-bye".'

/ excerpt from "the kreutzer sonata" by ira sadoff

from the book "open places" #31&32, stephens college fall 1981

/ evan's wrinkled feet upon taking off rain-soaked sneakers, 2 july 2011 webster ny

recent press/publications (to let you know i am still alive) --

// 'a book of beds' published by FOAM magazine amsterdam may 2011

one of my photographs from the 'iconoclast' series was published.

thank you to my mother for sending me pictures of the finished product

// 'digital photo' german edition september 2011 issue

my 'underwater' exhibition is mentioned!

thanks to my gallery in munich for this