Meditation: Cento Poems & On Light
Cento poems make great bedside reading, because cento is Latin for quilt. A cento is a sort of found poem literally "stitched together": every line is taken from another poem. It...
Cento poems make great bedside reading, because cento is Latin for quilt. A cento is a sort of found poem literally "stitched together": every line is taken from another poem. It...
Our remarkable poet laureate, Shannon Holman, is away in Indonesia for a few months of R&R. In the meantime, we'll be revisiting her earliest meditations. This one goes all the way back to February, 2...
Our remarkable poet laureate, Shannon Holman, is away in Indonesia for a few months of R&R. In the meantime, we'll be revisiting her earliest meditations. This one goes all the way back to January 14,...
Post from Paris: La Cave de Mattias We have a great assortment of weekly bloggers who contribute to AT: New York. Here are the top hits in April. All the of the posts below were MOST VIEWED by yo...
Here's a menorah to fit even the smallest apartment, and a small cool poem by Mark Strand: ...
The first snow of the year always reminds me of one of my very favorite poems, James Wright's "Milkweed" from his book The Branch Will Not Break: Milkweed While I stood here, in ...
Wisdom in a photo caption: "A jumbled arrangement of cardboard boxes imitating buildings. No matter how big the construction, it is inevitably composed of smaller parts."...
There's a force I've often described, only half-jokingly, as the Tyranny of New York. It's what keeps us stuck where we are because we fear that we if give up an apartment, we'll never ever fin...
I'm not much of a joiner. Back in school, you'd find me hiding out in homeroom during pep rallies, smoking under the bleachers during ball games. Need a snarky comment from the sidelines? I'm y...
All this past week, illness kept me laid up at home. But on my one foray outside to trudge a gauntlet of doctors' offices and x-ray facilities, the grace of the city found me on the B68 bus. ...
Think Curing your apartment is hard? Try renovating an entire 19th century farmhouse by yourself and on the cheap. It makes for a daunting task but a great read as James Graham chronicles his r...
Have company in your Cure with this poem by Robert Frost. Get a fresh cup of coffee before you sit down: it's a long one, but worth it.. In the Home Stretch She stood against the kitchen sink...
On lazy Sundays, there's nothing better than curling up* with a good book. But for getting through the rest of the days, often it's not whole books we turn to, but single lines of inspiratio...
Monk's robes are the colors of fall leaves. To the uncountable living beings living in uncountable universes to the east, May they be free of danger, May they be free of anger, May they be free of s...
Celebrating Fall Colors.... Autumn Grasses In fields of bush clover and hay-scent grass the autumn moon takes refuge The cricket's song is gold... full poem by Margaret Gibson ima...
Celebrating Fall Colors.... Gold Pale gold of the walls, gold of the centers of daisies, yellow roses pressing from a clear bowl.... full poem by Donald Hall photo credit...
Summer is the season of certainty. The Apollonian sun bleaches away gradations, leaving us with just the clean contrast of sand and surf. But real life is more like Fall. ...
By the time you read this, I'll be gone, escaped for a whole glorious media-free weekend to a place with no broadband and no cell service. Wish me luck. In the meantime, I used our shiny new search ...
August is the season of escape. Certain New Yorkers go to the Hamptons or the Cape or Fire Island. Others go to Brooklyn Heights for a Coney Island of the mind. And if you're like me, you ta...
I had the good fortune to be at Celebrate Brooklyn this past week to hear Jenny Scheinman play violin and to see the Brave New World Repertory Theater's production of Walt Whitman's great po...
It gives a thrill to see a firefly in New York, and it seems like this this year there are more fireflies than usual. Siv Cedering has a wonderful poem on fireflies: ...
I've just returned home on the red-eye, ruined for other cities. I've been in Seattle and loved exploring the Central Library, designed by Rem Koolhaas, but I always feel slightly out of place...
When I was a child, I dreamed of houses: the treehouse, the turreted castle, the one with a secret room. Now that I am all grown up, I still dream of houses: the beach shack on Bali, the cottag...
I'm on vacation at a friend's slightly tumble-down, wholly charming country house, enjoying children, dogs, and all of summer's other various joys. ...
Last week I issued a challenge: What would you do with ten extra hours per week, and what are you willing to give up this week to get those ten hours? So how's it going?...