A short tour of my book collection

A sense of Shakespeare on Film

An essay and poem on the loss of friendship.

A recitation of Lord Byron's poem "She Walks in Beauty."

An audio recording of a monologue from William Shakespeare's LOVE'S LABOR'S LOST.

Another vlog- a Youtube recitation of Robert Browning's "My Last Duchess"

An audio recitation of Robert Browning's "Porphyria's Lover."

There are a myriad number of stories of great writers being burned by Hollywood. At the beginning of the sound age, dramatists of note...

Greetings, readers! I hope you all had a nice holiday season and are as ready for the New Year as I am. 2024 was both challenging and...

The cold is finally here. Jackets and layers. The quickening of the dark. The sense that something special is drawing near. Christmas has...

The leaves and acorns fall and leave a densely populated gram on the cemented places that should still be nature places. The weather is...

When crossing the road, the person who looks only left, the person who looks only right, both get hit by cars.

Growing up as an actor, I always believed actors were born, not made. Certainly, one can learn techniques of speaking and movement,...

Not all holidays are created equally, but there is a ubiquity about them. It is necessary, for example, to have a bright spot in the...

As you read this, we are in the second day of summer, a season I appreciate (for all the life, the beauty, the cooling pool outside, the...

They said it was bad and my decision to come saved my life. Ten and a half hours in the emergency room, I spoke maybe a few words to my...

Special to the Blog: a little late, but still within "the week." A few down-to-earth, blue collar poems. Enjoy! Raised Right We are...

It's been nice sharing some poetry with you this month. If it's not been your thing, I'm sorry. I'll be back in March with more new...

A little belated St. Valentine's Day present-- some legitimate love poems, not my usual unrequited odes. Love one another. Some of these...

Stormborn: A Poem Peter, come out of the clouds. You fly too high. The virtues of the ground outweigh reaching for the crib. Born of the...