About this site
Around 1990 or so, when I became the last person in the world to learn of the Grateful Dead, I was enamored of a song the band often used as an encore: Brokedown Palace. It was a wistful, introspective sort of number about birds and a river and farewells that stuck with me over the years, and so when I decided to paint some word pictures—well, you can see where the title came from. I hope the writings that follow will occasionally be as evocative as the sound of that old song. I’m pretty sure they will be as pointless as its lyrics.
(Photos: Spices in the Otavalo market; eucalyptus forest above Ibarra, Imbabura, Ecuador)
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Categories
Tag Archives: Atacama
Bone Dry
A nearly full moon rose over the pitch-black Chilean desert as we barreled along in a rattling van. I’ve never seen such detail in the moonrise in my life. It was a breathtaking sight, made even more dramatic when the … Continue reading
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