Category Archives: Sobriety

Are You Fitbit Enough?

Has Fitbit become a verb yet? Everyone tells me not to get a Fitbit. They say I will obsess about how many steps I have taken each day. Not the way most people randomly check their wrists for progress toward 10,000 steps, but every few minutes – with a more zealous furrow to my brow. Waking in the […]

In Bed with Cowboys: The 10 Ways Television Uses Booze as a Prop

  I can’t decide whether I’m sick or depressed. I spent all day in bed Wednesday, watching a show called “Longmire” on Netflix. Yes, I binge watch TV. Longmire is this grizzled cowboy sheriff, with what appears to be an unrequited yen for his female deputy and a thirst for Rainier Beer. All the important […]

Drinking Dream (Nightmares)…

Yikes – I had a drinking dream! Whoa. I have to hurry to get this down. And this is not going to be some snippet of a pretty memory. Because I had a drinking dream last night. I was at a dinner party with a bunch of people and everyone was pouring drinks and I […]

A Life Well Lived?

  I feel like so many of my posts begin with a photograph of Guana Reserve. I have walked that stretch of deserted beach in every possible state of mind: scalding and still; with a cold facing wind; choppy and foggy; foreshadowing a black rain; and on those days when everything is so perfect it feels […]

The Hallways of Life

The Land of In-Between… I listened to one of those great sermons that (in my humble opinion) you only hear from an evangelical preacher with a southern accent. Think Robert Duval in The Apostle. He was talking about the times in life when we find ourselves in the land of  “in-between”: those purgatorial stopping points on the road […]

I’m Posing the Age Old Question to my Favorite Artists – What Does it Mean?

Jim Draper’s “The Moat” My newest article for Arbus Magazine is out, and although it is not about drinking or not drinking, I certainly would have handled this situation differently in the old, boozy days of Spiller Vincenty Gallery. The paintings would have been hung crookedly (the walls pocked with my measuring missteps), or I […]