June 19th, 2020
The Civil war goes on. The Black Lives Matter a movement
that never stops—the killing of George Floyd a short time
ago by a blue-suited policeman kneeling on George Floyd’s
neck (as the whole nation watched)
brings us back to these words: “I can’t breathe”
—this phrase represents the call of the Corona-19 Virus-victims
“I can’t breathe”.
Black people-people of Color-people who are Other
(all struggle to breathe in this “yet America”)
—it was 2 years until the slaves in Texas
received news that they were free—June 19, 1865.
Today we celebrate and note this day in history—
as we search for freedom and liberty for ALL.
People are still being bought and sold—slavery is alive and
well….we need reform and re-imagining.
2020 is pushing us all to think of everything
all at once—
And asking that a new way be found
—the old normal is not good enough to return to
—no not now—not never,
May 24th, 2020
Cultural Commerce are two words that I have trouble linking together. Now that the novel coronavirus has come to live in our land of milk and honey it seems that there is a conflict of interest in these 2 words living together. Linking money with culture is always limiting. Art being the driver of economics is rife with problems. Culture and art are products of thinking and the results of handiwork….not necessarily the desire to make money—most of the things I have made cost me time, space & cash.
May 21st, 2020
What next is the question? We have a lot to think about and little time to think or too much time to think–or no time at all to think?–So what are you thinking? about whatever there is to think about? or do we throw up our hands and surrender–but who shall we surrender to? lots of thoughts roll around in my head like a failed pin-ball machine –the only light left that never stops blinking is the one called “TILT”
May 10th, 2020
Democracy is Inconvenient
As the COVID-19 Virus pandemic continues
to invade our landscape—so do the future
plans to keep us forever in our spaces—
the announcement of Gov. Cuomo’s
“SCREEN NEW DEAL” as Naomi Klein
writes about this plan on the INTERCEPT
site May 8, 2020—is about the increase of Amazon,
Google, FaceBook —the Gates/the Schmidt’s
are all lining up to figure out a way to keep
us in jail—because democracy is inconvenient.
We will leave this crisis the worse for ware if
we do not sharpen up—and sit up and pay
strict attention to what is happening—we will
be assigned to sit in front of computers for
health, education, banking, and more—
it sounds like the death knell for the live arts
that is for certain and we will be forever
apart and never together again. The
big men are meeting now right here in
the Governor’s office to plan our future.
Perk up. Dystopia LOOMS.
April 30th, 2020
The TSL Comfort Food Project continues here at TSL. Our space which in the past was delivering independent movies, live simulcasts, live theater, and more is now delivering meals prepared for the community in which we live. Our kitchen is the center of our space right now and it serves a many who desire our good food–no one is turned away. A Video produced by our neighbors at Club Helsinki and filmed/edited by Randal Martin gives you a glimpse into the work that our staff is doing to give some relief at a time of crisis–“the pandemic –in the time of COVID-19”.
April 29th, 2020
TSL goes Virtual with the movies starting May 1, 2020. The COVID-19 pandemic continues to limit our ability to invite you into our space–so check our website for ways to access some movies we want to share with you. If you sign on and purchase a ticket it helps keep the TSL movie programs alive as well as our movie makers and distributors—AND it keeps you current with some movies we think you might like to see. Here goes. https://timeandspace.org/virtual-cinema/
April 23rd, 2020
THE PLAGUE by CAMUS/re-read (April 23, 2020)
Written in the 1940’s published in 1947.
This existential novel—is relevant now
as we witness our own plague in the
time of CORONA-19. The virus that
has created a large amount of death
and destruction in its path.
is a post- WW II-war story—as well—a metaphor
for the Nazi occupation and the terror of
that “plague”. Camus covers all the bases
with this work—how people react at each
stage of the disease—from beginning to
the end. It is a good read and a way to
reflect as we encounter the post-modern
plague that has come to us in the year
2019-2020. May we live to tell the ending.
Here in my own time and space I am
watching the urge now to address some
of the devastation of the Corona-19 by
helping people survive—how to address
the sorrow and how are we to make the
changes post-plague—or will we?
the air is cleaner—the silence is refreshing
as it allows for contemplation and reflection.
But the economy is a wreck—gasoline is
not selling—perhaps we stay put for awhile
and develop our own local economies—
perhaps we don’t need things shipped all
over the world and the global is not the end
all be all for us to survive…we need to give
the planet a chance to catch her breath
and hope for some fresh starts.
April 18th, 2020
“Throwing like a girl”.
I was listening to the radio
this morning—and the men
were talking about baseball
and wondering if or when
the stadiums would open
again due to the fear of
the novel coronavirus—
then I started thinking
about the issue of “hard ball”
and girls and how they throw
the ball and what it was like
being a girl that was raised
with a brother who was 5
years older then me—and
what it meant to compete
and keep up if I wanted to
be part of the boys club…???
There were boys at nearby farm
just a bike ride away.
The boy’s (Terry, John, Steve, & Mark)
Dad was a dairy farmer.
None of the boys wanted to be dairymen
when they grew up so they all left the farm
and did other things with their lives—
Milking cows was not their passion—
If you were a dairy farmer you had
to love your cows. It was a round
the clock deal early in the morning
to late at night —7 days a week
no breaks—no vacations—just
the daily grind of milking the cows—
one can’t blame the boys for wanting
another kind of life—Harold Lindemer
even painted all the names of the boys
on the silo— (perhaps seeing their
names on that structure was a sign
that ownership was more than graffiti
on the silo and naming them did not
enshrine them to marrying the
farm—instead it was a sign that
In any event
these boys and my brother were
my playmates (especially the 2 younger boys)
Mark and Steve—
I learned to throw like a boy
—I learned to kick the foot ball very well
AND yes I was good at passing that
weird football (shaped like a bullet)
and yes I could run and tackle —
This was a kind of training for the real world
that I would eventually face—
I learned fast because my intution
kicked in—and said this would be
useful in the future —
Playing with the boys taught me to be tough
and strong and not back down and stand
my ground and keep up
surpass them—because in fact
i was better than they were and
was fierce and a force to be
reckoned with—thanks to all
the boys Mark, Steve, Terry, & John
for being neighbors—boys of
left—I left too—now the fences
are gone the cows long gone—
gone are those days of early learning
the ways of the real world— when learning
the ways of the boys club were
keys to the first view of a world
that I would encounter and still do.
The women who throw
like a girl are not often let into
the club—(So which club do you
want to be let into?) that is the question?
maybe there is no club that fits one’s style??
The callous on my hands and the scuffed knees
support the future—because the “hard balls”
still keep coming my way,
So there you are —a little story—as I remember
like Proust those days of summers and riding
on tractors—and looking at the fields that went
on forever—with little fences like lines on the
paper that haunt my pen—yes and the Allis Chalmers
tractor that I rode on with Harold as across
the field sitting on the fender–balancing on the
edge near the big wheels as we traversed the field–
images planted like Kodachrome in the minds eye–
….time passes…and so does the remembrance
of time past—what is it all about—these stories?
hmmm? just a little note—a foot note—–
April 18, 2020
April 16th, 2020
April 16, 2020
What is Art.
What is beauty.
What is left of life when all is lived
We are now seeing things fall apart
it is a great time of change and
We fool ourselves if we think “normal”
will return—for it is not possible —
and it should not come back
otherwise why should we suffer now
and not learn from the suffering of so
many who have fallen ill or died from
the novel coronavirus?
All this loss would be a travesty
if we did not learn or change from this
The longing for normal is a fool’s errand.
What then shall we long for then?
Oh my!! lots to think about when thinking
about things is a rough row to hoe now.
We have so many thoughts now to think.
Thinking is what is necessary in this
time of silence and isolation.
We wait for Godot now.
The existentialists have left the stage
The pope’s shoes sit by the door
Chopin’s heart longs to beat
The Queen of England carries a purse
We watch the show fade
here in America we parade and preen
as if the market will return—
the bull is out of fashion
and the rest is predictable—
now we sort socks, make masks
and pray for our health—
now the pandemic is our focus as
we roll the dice and wonder what next.
April 13th, 2020
April 13, 2020
April Showers bring May Flowers
so the saying goes—what comes
and goes here in the time of the
Coronavirus is this.
Jun Maeda has died from this
disease—a long time friend and
collaborator of Time & Space Limited
when we were a full time theater company
in New York—that is another thing.
Richard Gillette a good friend of TSL
and our Yoga teacher has recovered
from the Coronavirus. Time & Space Limited
is alive and well. Claudia and Linda are
healthy AND yes careful of keeping away
from the people—so we travel between
our house on State Street in Hudson, NY
to our TSL located a block and 1/2
from our house—At TSL — we are working
on preparing COMFORT FOOD for the community.
A community that feels the strain of
isolation & limited funds—
right now we are serving approximately
300 meals a week of Comfort
Food—all prepared in the TSL Kitchen—
POT PIES and more flow out of these
doors for Pick up and delivery Monday’s
Thursday’s & Friday’s weekly — until this plague
is at bay. I am reading and thinking—
plotting and planning as best I can—
but most of all I am living in the moment.
As for the this and that of life—I have re-read
Camus’s THE PLAGUE, James Wood’s NOTICING,
re-read Sebald’s THE EMIGRANTS, re-read
Sophocles OEDIPUS, (watched some movies)
Bresson’s A MAN ESCAPED & PICK POCKET
Fassbinder’s 8 Hours DON’T MAKE A DAY
and more from the TSL Library…Claudia and
I are lucky—we have a great dedicated staff
of young people who have stepped up to help
keep the ship afloat—we sail on here—
It is indeed a time to reflect—see what has
become of us and this Yet America.