Love in the Second Act

Page 100 – Love in the Second Act

“I feel like a virgin”  In Greece, I travel to a house on a small island I’ve visited again and again through the years.The light beguiles. On my way back from a swim—yes, the  swimming  goes on into  December sometimes—I pass a man and a woman  I’ve casually known for many years—Maggie Martin, a former dancer originally from Jamaica,(…)


A nocturnal visitor

I received an impromptu visit from my great friend Corinne Trang last night. She’s formidable, beautiful, simpatico, highly accomplished in every one of her many areas of expertise. Truth be told, she’s become our third sister. (She was also a subject I interviewed for my book Love in the Second Act, True Stories of Romance, Midlife and Beyond, Section:(…)


Marianne, adieu

Born in Norway, Marianne died in Norway yesterday at 15:11 taking a piece of my heart with her when she went as Marianne and I walked many of the same roads during the past almost fifty years. [Photo below: Marianne, her Norwegian husband. Jan, and me, recently at a taverna in Greece late at night. Laughing, of course.] Following,(…)


Turning the page

I’m turning the page on: winter, work project, “House of Cards,” furry jacket, a major possession, the clock, and more. During this past week (in some sense), the end of a tunnel was reached. Have stepped into milky, silver-ish light. Is Act III (IV?, V?) about to begin?  Following, an excerpt from the recently re-released (TMI Press thank you) nonfiction Love in(…)


On the horizon

With my little jewel Not Not a Jew recently launched by TMI Press, only one reissue (of five previously published works) remains. Soon it too will be released with a new Author’s Note to blow freely in the wind. The following piece on Georgia O’Keeffe’s last love, written during a snowy winter, is from this nonfiction work – Love in(…)


The itch needs scratching

Give me a long train or boat trip; give me almost any hotel room, almost anywhere in order to research/develop/write a book, catch up on old NYorker or TLS’s, stare in blank reverie out a window/porthole. I don’t mind being the only guest in dead of winter, am as contented at the Ritz in London as I am at the no star(…)