I begin the week with the bright intention not to be devoured by the administrative deluge which defines business in the modern age. I sip my coffee and pretend that I am waiting for Sartre or Camus to join me at the Café de Flor. I resist the temptation to turn on my computer so I can keep the grim spectacle at bay for at least another twenty minu... See more
When not knee-deep in one of our editorial seasons, I focus a few hours each day on correspondence. Letter-writing is usually time very well spent and often a hairline away from one’s best writing.
As I argue in my ‘Offline Manifesto,’ which introduces the new issue three of Analog Sea Review , good art rests upon the artist’s ability to think and feel separately from the crowd, to be alone, to maintain some semblance of interiority.
Handwritten letters, although occasionally illegible, suggest age, mood, degrees of elegance and care. And the envelopes themselves convey fragrance, for better or worse, bringing us, olfactorily, into the rooms where the letters are written. The paper crafts, photos, dried flowers, and other enclosures would otherwise come to us as mere one-dimens... See more
At the heart of the Review is the writing, which is always notably strong and impressively varied. How do you pull together all the excerpts, interviews, and original writing?
We organize The Analog Sea Review around unannounced subthemes, each beginning with a piece of visual art. The themes, which readers have to figure out for themselves, often ... See more
Apparently there exist in the world artists and writers for whom chaos is a boon. I am certainly of the opposite camp, unable to even begin to think or feel very deeply until every last bit of clutter has been shredded, filed, deleted, delegated, or at least hidden away somewhere in a crate. So Monday mornings begin with the ritual clearing from my... See more