There are few things more unnerving for a writer than staring at a blank screen. Michael Lebowitz wills the words to come.
A quiet day. A nap ended with sounds of gunfire becoming fireworks across the night sky. Grabbed my camera set it to ISO 100, Bulb shutter remote release, 5.6F Stop, leveled the tripod and started to shoot. “One more time, one more night” in the land of the free, home of the brave.
“The blues, to me, is like, being very sad, very sick…or in the church, being very happy. There’s two kinds of blues: there’s happy blues, and there’s sad blues. I don’t think I ever sing the same way twice. I don’t think I ever sing the same tempo. One night, it’s a little bit slow, […]
Michael Lebowitz reflects on running, recovery and life in the popular Tarmac Meditations series of diary entries.
When marriages break up, what do we take with us and what do we leave behind? Is it too little? Is it ever enough? Michael Lebowitz offers up his moving day list.
An investigator looking for lost love and dreams buys flowers for a woman he is involved with, but the relationship has already begun to wilt.
According to Sean the whole island is going to be there. It will be the last chance for the locals to party together before the summer tourist weekend crowd gets there. Traci, the birthday girl will be putting on her usual show. She can be surprisingly graceful and sexy. I have the sense that Traci […]
I figured it was safer in the open. Dopers have an amazing calculus when they’re out of dope, when the sickness is on them, knowing that they need something now. I always believed the romance that junkies were fallen angels, had danced the Nutcracker, were just down on their luck, a day or two away from getting their “shit” together. Mostly though, they stole my wallet and my drugs and then they helped me look for them.
A runner discovers that the sounds of the early morning in the rain beat out any iPod playlist.
A runner trains for two long runs, back to back, and contemplates the sanity of “the ultra”.