Category: Being A Writer

A Journey Of Voice

I took a walk through Prospect Park today. These hilly acres in the middle of Brooklyn were designed to get you lost, with swerving paths that make you think you’re walking in a definite direction as they subtly turn you back again until you pass the spot where you started … Read the rest

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Looking For My Voice

Marc Eliot Stein with some Brooklyn graffiti

I’ve been thinking about voice — about my own voice, and about the word ‘voice’. I looked up quotes with the word ‘voice’ and immediately found a bunch that got me thinking. So many worthwhile quotes, in fact, that I stopped reading after I got to these four:

The one

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Satori in Brooklyn: Our Shared Spaces

A few days ago a friend told me she was worried about my rage. “You seem upset a lot,” she said.

Another friend told me the same thing after seeing my photos of a protest march. This friend says I need to “relax” about Donald Trump, Mike Pence, stolen seats … Read the rest

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Reflections

I’m in a reflective mood lately. Looking within, through a glass darkly and all that. That’s my excuse for the fact that it’s March 2018 and this is my first post of the year.

I also have another excuse: I’ve been working on a really good Litkicks article about opera. … Read the rest

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Miami Diary, August 2017

I’ve been communing with a view of the Atlantic ocean all summer.

I don’t get to spend as much time out there swimming in it as I’d like, because I’m a workaholic no matter where I live. But the view out my window helps keep me centered. The great ocean … Read the rest

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A Time For Kicks, A Time For Inspiration

We always knew our country could fall victim to a right-wing coup. It’s happening right now, in the form of a stolen election by the repulsive Donald Trump, and everything we cherish is at stake: our freedom, our democracy, our basic human decency, our lives and the lives of those … Read the rest

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Phases of Change

A few weeks ago I showed up for a cool poetry reading at a dive called Gunther’s in Northport, Long Island, a bar famous for being Jack Kerouac’s favorite drinking spot when he’d lived nearby. This reading was significant to me because something was happening for the first time. When … Read the rest

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Revolt on Mount Parnassus: An Allegory in Copy/Paste

Introduction

PARIS – AUGUST, 1870 – An incorrigible, horrible genius. A fifteen year-old! disembarks at Rue de Maubeuge. A concussion of uncombed hair infested with a plague of lice. Soiled clothing. A homicidal cupid with the enormous hands of a strangler. A smarmy smirk, perfect skin, a beautiful terror with … Read the rest

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