Sometimes there’s not enough words to explain the day. We attempt to create a shape, a revelation between spaces, where a line becomes more than a crease in time. It’s a half note matured and filled with air. The sound bursts into a place not yet traveled. The movement resembles a crusade, a new path … More PLACE YOUR BETS
Two crumpled pieces of paper collapse to the floor like exhausted dancers. A light breeze pushes them together as they creak and stretch in unison. The compact energy contained within the tightly bonded folds begin to unevenly release, resembling the sound of mice running across a sandy floor. They slowly turn again as the … More AS IN LIFE
In the forest, under a canopy of boughs, rain creates a symphony as a portion of the sky falls. The moisture provides a density buffering all sounds. In the shadows there is calm; a noiseless base. Birds have secured sanctuary. Footsteps move quietly over damp leaves and twigs; dryness removed. A distant rumble of thunder … More WALKING THROUGH
A lost calling. The seasons changing without notice. A misplacement of the misplaced; The Beat Generation. They were crusaders of the word; always someplace and never without cool. Shirts and shoes unrequired from San Francisco to West 46th Street. Their pain was locked in the fists of their resistance. Eyes deaf toward the average, they … More WHERE ARE THEY?
A gauze of filtered light set the pattern of a checkered sun streaming across the table. An uneasy ghost of air plagued the room, circling quietly in an overhead fan then twisting to the floor where it slides into corners, stirring dust and yesterdays webs. A brief summer steals the warmth of August … More INFINITY SKY
There was a final call for last drinks at the Black Cactus Cantina, a place comfortable in the shadows. It was another night of switchblades, leather boots and lies with smiles. Warm desert winds and roaming lizards stir night sands. Women with showy names and men without truth move through the door to outside. … More LAST CALL
It’s a bush of memories. Shadows of faces unable to speak. Lost in a moment, like a mist catching voices and thoughts drifting in a direction of silence. Angels gather. We feel the pain gathered by images. Others swell in tides of grief we fail to completely understand. We pray. From … More LAS VEGAS
Willowy tall palms bend with resistance under a byzantine blue sky The fragrance of changing tides and salt air stir summer with youth and stories Sand is the celebration of a movable graffiti. Ivy and roses stretch over a fence, attracting children and angels There’s nothing regrettable about summer its evenings … More GIVING IN
The sidewalk is a stream, a playground, an escape without arrows to point the way out. Fallen stars, the scattering of dreamers believing in second chances, light the city at night. Children remain close by, guarded by the fences of stern warnings. Their visions asleep as they accept the ideas of less. Surrounding aromas are … More NOT FAR FROM HERE
The academia of cafe people. The quips are everything, falling neatly into line without stress. They circle the edge of the serious before journeying to art and the Bauhaus of their apartment. There’s a laugh about abstract dreams and what they could possibly mean and how their favorite pillow captures tears. Black and white photos … More THE OUTSIDE OF IN
Roger Singer 