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: London
Our Lunch with the Inmates
From the archives—and a memorable December long ago. (London, Dec. 12, 2001)—Lunch at Pollo Soho began unremarkably at our cramped booth next to the kitchen door. It was, after all, an indifferent little restaurant tucked into a small space on … Continue reading
Yuletide in London
(From the archive: Nov. 25, 2001)–Last night I strolled along Tottenham Court Road, poking into endless bookshops and gray-market stores, and observing the spikey-haired punks arrayed along the street, with enough metal piercings and rivets to spin compasses and ground … Continue reading
brokedownpalette 