It’s funny how the mind works, and what it chooses to focus on. If you ask me what I want to do with my life, I can’t give you an answer. But I can tell you what my favorite color is:
Leaving the house one day, I noticed something lying on the sidewalk. Drawing closer I found the torn, discarded wrapping of a Christmas gift. A little further along the walkway lay the shipping envelope.
I’ve always wondered what determines where and how far one’s mind strays during the night hours. There doesn’t seem to be a pattern. Some dreams are too short, cut off just when they’re getting interesting.
Some time back I watched a Val Lewton film “The Seventh Victim.”
Since Mother’s Day is officially over, it’s safe to broach the subject of moms in Hitchcock movies. Why, you ask? What could be more boring? Well, Norman Bates would beg to differ.
POLICE IN HITCHCOCK’S MOVIES Building suspense in movies is an art.
One day in an automotive galaxy far, far, away . . . okay, so it was in the 70s . . . The father of a guy I knew sold me a Chevy Impala for $75.
Decided to do some remodeling work in the bathroom. A little trim added on to the new bathroom shelf I added, after removing the uglier-than-sin medicine cabinet-
Watching DVD episodes of the old Leave It To Beaver TV show. That place must have been hell to live in,
In a letter from MC Escher to his son, written in 1955, the famous artist said: I wish I’d learned to draw a little better! How much effort and persistence it costs to try to do it well. Every once in awhile the stress of it all drives me to the point of a nervous […]
The brown box arrived this afternoon. Within in it, nestled against a transparent, inflatable plastic bag lies the Quad, shrink-wrapped within another plastic bag.
There are three kinds of people: those who work, those who don’t, and those with a career.