Archive for October, 2008
In which The Gay Recluse becomes increasingly obsessed with manhole covers. Sometimes when you brush away the leaves and organic debris, you find a manhole cover from 10,000 years ago, when New York City was first being constructed. Whenever anyone asks me for something to put into a time capsule, I tell them not to […]
Filed under: Capitalism, City Pattern Project, Infrastructure | Leave a Comment
Tags: Andy Warhol, Leaves, Manhole Covers, Patterns
In which The Gay Recluse becomes increasingly obsessed with naps. Lately we’ve had trouble sleeping, so have begun to rely on naps. Sometimes the best place to sleep is on a crowded subway train. (If you can get a seat!) Especially on the A or D between 59th and 125th Streets, a trip that during […]
Filed under: Capitalism, Conspiracy, GWB Project, Health, Longing, Subway | Leave a Comment
Tags: Naps, Teenagers, The D-Train, The George Washington Bridge, The MTA
In which The Gay Recluse wonders when the fog will burn off. Lately it seems that every morning we wake up in a fog. And we feel sort of hopeless, because even though logic dictates otherwise, we wonder if this will be the day that the fog is permanent. And we’ll never see the sky […]
Filed under: Architecture, Gay, Government, GWB Project, History, New York City, Nostalgia | Leave a Comment
Tags: 401(k), Depression, Fog, Recession, The George Washington Bridge
In which The Gay Recluse becomes increasingly obsessed with birds. One thing about birds. No matter how disgusting and dirty they look walking around on the ground — especially pigeons — they are always beautiful in the air. Sometimes at the gym — which is on the third floor — we blow off our workout […]
Filed under: Animals, Architecture, GWB Project, Health, Longing, Weather | Leave a Comment
Tags: Birds, Fish, Pigeons, Seagulls, Workouts, Zoning Out
On The Metropolis Case
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 […]
Filed under: Animals, Capitalism, Dissonance, Dream, Faith, Infrastructure, Landscape, Language, Literature, Weather, Writers-American | 15 Comments
Tags: Agents, Book Deals, Editors, Matt Gallaway, Matthew Gallaway, The Metropolis Case
In which The Gay Recluse becomes increasingly obsessed with the firethorn. Orange is one of the best colors in the autumn garden. It will have to sustain us through the winter. Fortunately, we never get tired of looking at it. Today as we contemplated the clusters of tiny fruit, illuminated by the eastern sun, we […]
Filed under: GWB Project, Memory, Nostalgia, Obsession, Pleasure, The Autumn Garden | Leave a Comment
Tags: Colors, Firethorn, Mountain Ash, orange, Sadness
In which The Gay Recluse remembers his grandparents. Of our four grandparents, the only one we knew at all was our grandmother. And even she died when we were very young. Our evil uncle stole almost everything she owned, but our father managed to keep a few things, including this blue vase, which he in […]
Filed under: Addiction, Animals, History, Longing, Memory, Small Pleasure Project, Stereotypes | 2 Comments
Tags: Blue Vase, Chameleons, Drunks, Ft. Lauderdale, Grandfathers, Grandmothers, McCain, Nixon, Republican Assholes
On Dreams of Flowers
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?
Filed under: Dissonance, Dream, Longing, Memory, The Autumn Garden | Leave a Comment
Tags: Dreams, Flowers, Rosed
In which The Gay Recluse becomes increasingly obsessed with bricks. According to CNN, both candidates “exceeded expectations.” (That’s a relief, in a way.) But mostly, it makes us remember when we ran for vice-president of our junior high school. And how we wrote a speech and delivered it very earnestly. Who knows what we said: […]
Filed under: Competitions, Memory, The Autumn Garden | Leave a Comment
Tags: Bricks, Elections, Junior High, Moss, Vice President
The Gay Recluse 