“Did you ever get divorced?” 6-yo Kai recently asked my wife, as we three sat on the couch munching white-cheddar popcorn. “No, that was Daddy. He was married once before.” Jodi glanced over at me, smiled and continued,”I’ve only been married to one person.” My son turned his earnest gaze my way. “Who did you marry, Daddy?” “Her name was Kim,” I told him. Kai grabbed a fistful of popcorn and asked no more questions. My divorce was a dark and sad chapter of my life, as it is f

I once sat under a large sycamore tree with the poet Allen Ginsberg and a small cluster of his students. He was thick around the middle with goofy glasses and bulging wet lips that reminded me of rolled up sandwich meat. Still, he held court with languid eminence, just as sure of himself in these final years of his life as he must have been when he spit HOWL into the face of a prudish world in 1957. The other time I encountered Ginsberg, he sat alone on stage at the Miami Boo

My wife does not hold onto anger or disappointment. It is one of the steel rods that form her character. Had she held grudges, our relationship would have ended within 6 months. We’d just flown to Nice from Paris, where Jodi joined me for an exhibition of my paintings arranged by my university. We’d been dating only since February, and the sea and Provençal sky stretched blue in both directions as we sped west to our destination through an orgy of summer sunflowers and lavend

“A mop went to a party. But he was shy, so he just went home and cleaned up the house.” My wide-eyed 6-yr-old shared this with me a few days ago. He’d been tasked to create a story at school.  “That is a terrific story!” I said, charmed and full with love for my little Tolstoy. I am impressed by his literary effort for several reasons: It is short, sweet and utterly complete. It is random and unexpected. I haven’t heard too many mop stories recently. It has a clear protagoni

Stuart Sheldon, The Name On Everyone’s Lips, acrylic and collage on panel, 2003 “If you smile at me I will understand. That is something everybody everywhere does in the same language.” This opening lyric from Crosby Stills & Nash’s Wooden Ships is one of the reasons I wanted kids. To get back to fundamental human connection. To truly see and be seen by another. Without the ambiguity and nuisance of words. Kids know a real smile when they see it. And they respond in kind 999