Category Archives: Venice Stories

“Here’s a guy who’s actually living out his philosophy. He probably believes talking is a corruption of the pure spirit or something like that – like it injects the ego into reality, and he’s some Buddhist who’s trying to dissolve his ego, and the only way he can get there is by not talking.” Continue reading →

Buff had a secret life he carried on while we were away at work. We only got him for those morning and evening walks down to the beach, but his fans got him all the rest of the time. He had so much love, though, we never knew the difference. He was very easy to share. Continue reading →

The house was a salt box, probably forty or fifty years old. One story, maybe 20 by 50 feet. The slanted roof, covering a tiny attic, was white, and the main floor a faded deep blue. At the front, on … Continue reading →

I’ve been skiing with my family at Snowmass the past two weeks. Normally, I would have written every day or so, describing the spectacular scenery, exhilarating skiing, and wonderful events and happenings which surround my time in the mountains. Somehow, … Continue reading →