Archive for the ‘Dream’ Category

In which The Gay Recluse lands. We finally descended through the clouds, and — while looking out at the approaching city — were confronted by two questions. Is it possible that we actually live here? And could it really be 2009?


In which The Gay Recluse reads a book of signs. One strange thing about growing up in Pittsburgh was that even before we lived anywhere else, we used to say that it — i.e., Pittsburgh — was haunted. But when people would ask us why, we were at a loss to explain: either you got […]


In which The Gay Recluse seeks to vex. Oh noes! It seems that we’ve upset Reader Arundel with our obsessive-compulsive need to repeat the same or similar photographic images over and over! Here’s what Arundel wrote: Hi. I forget where I first came across your blog, but I enjoy your posts and insights. Thank you. […]


In which The Gay Recluse remembers Sergio Leone. Recently we watched the director’s cut of Once Upon a Time in America, Sergio Lione’s epic Jewish/New York City gangster movie from 1984. When originally released in the United States, the producers imposed a chronological sequence onto the movie to shorten it, whereas Lione intended it to […]


In which The Gay Recluse sees stars. So the other day we ran into this coal-chute cover named Chris Zieseniss, who lives a few doors down from us. He’s originally from Brooklyn, but moved to Washington Heights like 200 years ago or something and has lived here ever since. We like talking to him, but […]


In which The Gay Recluse goes to Broadway. Ohai, so did anyone else see these crazy new storefronts in Washington Heights, on Broadway between 160 and 161? (We didn’t think so.) They went in a few weeks ago — during the middle of the night — and there’s still no signage or anything else to […]


In which The Gay Recluse returns to Dupont Circle. For the past few days we’ve been staying at a hotel not far from Dupont Circle, which is the same neighborhood where we lived after college and before law school. Mostly it makes us wonder: why did we ever move? It’s so nice around here! It’s […]


In which Matthew Gallaway aka your local gay recluse gets a book deal. Eight or nine years ago, we decided to write a novel. It was actually our second attempt; the first one  — a satirical look at internet start-up culture in the late 90s — we had retired to the desk drawer after sending […]


In which The Gay Recluse becomes increasingly obsessed with dreams. The years passed, and not always quickly. Many nights we dreamed of roses. When they finally arrived, we could not believe our luck! Then a question: what will we dream of now?


In which The Gay Recluse is entranced. Tonight we watched A Story of Floating Weeds, the 1934 film by Yasujiro Ozu.  It’s a silent movie, which takes some getting used to (and we say this with regret, not about the movie, but the state of our frenzied existence). Like the other Ozu films we’ve seen […]


In which The Gay Recluse passes up the chance of a lifetime. Did you hear? Tonight My Bloody Valentine is playing at Roseland. They’ve always been one of our favorite bands. Loveless is a masterpiece; dissonant, propulsive and melodic, it changed rock, or least provided an important delineation. The way great pieces of art will […]


In which The Gay Recluse records and tumbles. Hey fans of the British Invasion (by which we mean the one with Spacemen 3 and My Bloody Valentine)! Why not tumble on over to the latest in Saturnine Death Culture at Sea — recorded by us like five seconds ago on this very laptop — where […]


In which The Gay Recluse ponders the Hills and the empty rooms of his past. So tonight we watched the most recent episode of the Hills. The first part was about Audrina. She had to help promote some horrible band for her job. She invited Lauren, who — now that they are on better terms […]


In which The Gay Recluse is still morose. Today we felt so completely trapped. By our neighborhood, our job, our possessions. Oh and our stupid country. Our life felt completely artless. But then we came home and watched The Hills. And played with the cats. Soon we’ll go to bed. We wonder what it would […]


In which The Gay Recluse hears a song from another life. Yesterday we turned on the stereo in our basement. We hadn’t played it in years. Miraculously, it worked! The receiver and speakers are from ninth grade. Hey computers! Sometimes bigger analog speakers still sound better! More miraculous was that a CD was already in […]


In which The Gay Recluse languishes. Yesterday we went for a run, even though it was 156 degrees out. When we were young, we laughed at the heat. Let’s just say we’re not as young as we used to be! Today we’re not going anywhere. Even though we’re kind of in the mood for a […]


In which The Gay Recluse looks up and sees maps. Sometimes it’s easy to forget how arbitrary time is. Like yesterday when we were rushing for the subway (and missed it). And then stepped into the elevator at work with five other people and of course everyone pressed the button for a different floor. We […]


In which The Gay Recluse presents a gay/impressionistic alternative to this week’s Modern Love offering in The Times. Those looking for our quantitative analysis should click here. By JULIE BUXBAUM and THE GAY RECLUSE Published: May 11, 2008 SEVEN months ago, I was married in an ivory lace dress to a woman in a gray […]


In which The Gay Recluse suggests a link. The most beautiful ads are always for dead companies. Like this one we recently took on 35th Street between 5th and 6th Avenue. Does this company still exist? We hope not, because we don’t want to have to think about buying anything. New York City is filled […]


In which The Gay Recluse documents the sunset of a dream. Today the tide seemed to finally turn against Hillary Clinton. We felt bad about it, but mostly on behalf of our mother. She’s in her seventies now and really wanted Hillary to win. She’s spent the better part of four decades fighting for women’s […]



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