Runner, writer and photographer Michael Lebowitz reflects that what each of us does alone brings us together, binds us to one another, makes us whole.
Michael Lebowitz gets philosophical about the writing process and decides that despite the frustrations, it’s better to keep the faith.
June 13, 2010 Sat down fixin’ to work this morning. Things to write. Put Billy Joe Shaver on the box and got after it. Pretty soon I’m leanin’ back in my chair, feet up on the desk, eyes closed. Ain’t no words comin’ from me. Billy Joe seems to have them all. Oh hell, it’s […]
A runner tries to find the energy and motivation for an early morning run.
A runner who who craves a lazy Sunday morning finds the world if full of reasons to get out of bed. And some of them of good ones.
I am looking for rocks of cocaine. I’m broke and getting broker, and all I want to do is get high. There is Jack telling me some fairy tale and watching me do this, just like two regular guys on a Saturday afternoon, just folks, sittin’ on the stoop, looking out at the neighborhood, talking football or jazz.
A runner shares the stream of consciousness of his early morning thoughts.
A runner reflects that it doesn’t matter how fast you are or how many times you fall, you just have to keep on coming back. That’s what makes the difference.
I met a couple of Vietnam vets who were there for the run — to “represent,” one of them told me with a grin. We talked about the weather, how the hedgerows were electric green in the downpour. I heard subtext in the rain talk, sensed it was a memory of jungle and youth. The far-off looks told me that memory is where you find it.
We were sitting in the Drenched Beagle in Vancouver when a guy from the bar asked me, “Where are we?” “Here.” I said. Later he asked, “What time is it?” “Now,” I said.