From the Notebook
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Escape Route
Anytime the train rolls through some sad Podunk town, it’s almost guaranteed there will be at least one person waiting with a phone or camera to record our passing visit.
I’ve never understood how they know when to show up, or if they just wait around for hours in anticipation, but I admire their tenacity and commitment.
More than once, I’ve prayed for them as their lives enter my view for a moment, then vanish into memory just as quickly.
I may be projecting, but I often feel a deep kinship with those strangers.
I can usually see a longing in their eyes to flee the shitty little world that imprisons them, and it reminds me of the many long years of my life when I felt the same.
I, too, was stuck in oppressive, shithole towns in the middle of nowhere, desperate to break free and wander to wider spaces beyond the familiar.
It’s shocking how long it took me to escape that narrow existence, and I could never thank God enough for getting me the fuck out.
Even now, I bristle at the thought of being limited and confined, as I have been for much of my life.
In hindsight, it’s been necessary: Only when your soul has been sufficiently smothered does it begin to burn with an unquenchable fury to release those who are also trapped and desperate for hope.
What galls me the most is that so many people enjoy being suppressed and captive. As a citizen of the United States, that has become abundantly clear.
A good chunk of humanity finds comfort in keeping their worlds small, limited, and controlled, surrendering their lives to two-bit demons who squelch their power for the illusion of safety and normalcy.
For those people, I have no sympathy—they’ve chosen to bargain with darkness, and their lives are an abhorrent waste.
But for those lone lights who yearn for something greater, whose souls hope and pine for freedom and autonomy, my heart is with you. May God grant you the release you seek.
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James B. Hunt, Jr. Library (2013) – Raleigh, North Carolina
Snøhetta with Pearce Brinkley Cease & Lee. James B. Hunt, Jr. Library (2013). North Carolina State University. Raleigh, North Carolina.1 2 3 
Looking at the James B. Hunt, Jr. Library from the west 
Entrance of the James B. Hunt, Jr. Library, Raleigh, North Carolina 
Looking at the James B. Hunt, Jr. Library from the northwest 
Windows and sun shades on the James B. Hunt, Jr. Library, Raleigh, North Carolina 
Looking at the James B. Hunt, Jr. Library from the southwest 
Windows and sun shades on the James B. Hunt, Jr. Library, Raleigh, North Carolina References
- Price, Jay. “Need a book? Ask a robot”. The News and Observer (Raleigh, North Carolina), April 17, 2009, p. B1. ↩︎
- “A Vibrant Space For Learning”. The News and Observer (Raleigh, North Carolina), January 3, 2013, p. B1. ↩︎
- James B. Hunt Jr. Library – Snøhetta ↩︎
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Northeast Natives: Purpleheaded sneezeweed
Purple-headed sneezeweed (Helenium flexuosum) It’s been another bleak and exhausting year—that seems to be the only kind we like to produce anymore.
It still helps to find joy in the small gifts of nature, which we, the destructive demons who roam and pillage the earth, have done absolutely nothing to deserve.
The beautiful yellow flowers of fall are one such gift, a welcome reminder of hope and optimism, even as the cold, dark days of winter begin breathing down our necks.
I find the flowers of purple-headed sneezeweed particularly graceful, and their presence at the moment brings me great delight.
Happy autumn!
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Church of the Epiphany Parish House (1923) – Atlanta
Pringle & Smith. Church of the Epiphany Parish House (1923). Inman Park, Atlanta.1 2 3 4 
Cross and shield ornament on the Church of the Epiphany Parish House, Atlanta 
South elevation of the Church of the Epiphany Parish House, Atlanta 
Cross on the Church of the Epiphany Parish House, Atlanta References
- “Epiphany Church To Break Ground For Parish House”. The Atlanta Journal, November 9, 1922, p. 3. ↩︎
- “New Parish House Of Epiphany Church To Rank With Best”. The Atlanta Journal, February 25, 1923, p. A11. ↩︎
- “Bishop H.J. Mikell To Speak on Program Of Epiphany Church”. The Atlanta Journal, December 9, 1923, p. 6A. ↩︎
- Craig, Robert M. The Architecture of Francis Palmer Smith, Atlanta’s Scholar-Architect. Athens, Georgia: University of Georgia Press (2012). ↩︎
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Mostly Mundane: Summer’s End
Summer’s nearly over
—Thank fucking God.
Such a miserable, wretched season.
The sweltering heat,
The vulgar haze,
The malaise that weighs on me like a wetsuit.
Float away, summer,
And never return.
May we stay in autumn forever.
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Alta Vista Elementary School Addition (1957) – Sarasota, Florida
Victor A. Lundy. Alta Vista Elementary School Addition (1957). Sarasota, Florida.1 2 3 
South elevation of Alta Vista Elementary School Addition, Sarasota, Florida 
North elevation of Alta Vista Elementary School Addition, Sarasota, Florida 
Victor A. Lundy. Projected design of Alta Vista Elementary School Addition, Sarasota, Florida 4 References
- “Alta Vista Addition Gets ‘Go Ahead’”. The News (Sarasota, Florida), September 5, 1956, p. 9. ↩︎
- “$149,693 Contract Awarded For Alta Vista Addition”. The News (Sarasota, Florida), March 23, 1957, p. 9. ↩︎
- “Sarasota’s Newest”. The News (Sarasota, Florida), October 19, 1957, p. 9. ↩︎
- [Alta Vista Elementary School, Sarasota, Florida.] [Addition.] [“Butterfly Wing.”] [Exterior] | Library of Congress ↩︎
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Es muy auténtico
Listen closely, and you can hear ghosts of the not-too-distant past in conversation:
“This place is real authentic. Almost like being in Texas—’cept for no illegals.”
“Naw, they got ’em working in the kitchen.”
“They better not be harborin’ no illegals here. I’m gonna call the sheriff and have ’em deported.”
“Then who they gonna get to work for dirt wages?”
“Get some kids in there or sumpin’. There’s a bunch of lazy Blacks on welfare ’round here that needa be working too.”
“They’d probably have to raise the prasses. You know all them wokes are demandin’ a livin’ wage these days.”
“Shee-et, that ain’t my problem.”
“It sure as hell ain’t mine.”
“That waitress is being too fuckin’ slow. I ain’t leavin’ her a tip. I’m gonna write ‘Jesus saves’ on the receipt instead.”
“That’s a tip that’ll last her for eternity.”
“Amen. Where the hell is my fishbowl margarita?”
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Liberty Bridge (2004) – Greenville, South Carolina
Miguel Rosales. Liberty Bridge (2004). Greenville, South Carolina.1 2 
Looking east across Liberty Bridge, Greenville, South Carolina 
Looking at Reedy River Falls from Liberty Bridge, Greenville, South Carolina 
Looking west across Liberty Bridge, Greenville, South Carolina 
Reedy River Falls, Greenville, South Carolina 
Liberty Bridge at night References
- “City unveils new downtown Liberty Bridge”. The Greenville News (Greenville, South Carolina), September 15, 2004, City People, p. 2. ↩︎
- Liberty Bridge | Rosales+ – Rosales + Partners ↩︎
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Collision
All of a sudden, I realize my soul is on a collision course with another, and I think…
How the hell did I get here?
If I strain my brain really hard,
I can trace the events back like breadcrumbs,
But I’ll be damned if I can figure out what propelled me into each decision.
Which choice was the critical one that sealed my fate?
So much is hazy to me now.
How long ago was it when I woke up and heard that voice ask me,
How do you know they’re the one?
“I don’t,” I said in reply.
I don’t even think I believe in The One.
I suspect it’s more like The One of Many.
There are, however, times appointed for each collision,
And this is one of them.
I see the soul in front of me,
So they must be the one for this appointment.
Ready or not,
Here we go…
