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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Civic Pride
The gray statue was easy to miss in a driving downpour, along a narrow road of jarring cobblestones carved into the steep side of Imbabura volcano hundreds of feet above the Pan American Highway. Seen through the rainfall sheeting on the … Continue reading
brokedownpalette 