Here are a few of my thoughts, scratchings, achievements and maybe even a failure or two. Enjoy and thanks for taking the time to look.

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In Hindu mythology the Paramahamsa is a swan with the ability to drink the essential part of milk while rejecting its watery part. It is considered a symbol of a spiritually illumined soul who has experienced the Divine Essence of everything by rejecting the worldly lure of the senses.

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Early in the spring on 1944 the Reverend James V. Knapp picked up a small brown volume known as The Prayer Book for Soldiers and Sailors opened it and wrote: To Richard W. Buschel with the best wishes of all his friends at All Saints’ Church. Then he signed it and added: Harrison N.Y., March 23, 1944.
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On May 30 and 31, 2014, with a grant from Norwalk2.0—a non-profit organization dedicated to bringing art to the citizens of Norwalk, CT—I co-produced The Art of Poetry.

Here are a number of photos from the event.

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My history with tattooing goes back to the early 1970’s when, fresh out of college, my head still ringing with all the rhetoric about the upcoming Video Revolution, I went in search of a topic.

‘Portrait of Marisa Kakoulas’, oil on canvas, 48″ x 60″, 2010, by Shawn Barber

A friend, also interested in film, suggested a visit to Big Joe’s Tattoo Parlor in Mount Vernon, NY. And THAT is where my lifelong interest in tattooing began.
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I’m writing the screenplay for the new film by my friend Cici Artist entitled: Spreading Mom. It’s a poetic animation about the final gift a mother gave to her children and we need to raise $1,500 to get it off the ground. So we’ve posted the project to KICKSTARTER.

That’s how I started my blog entry back in October of 2012. Six months later the film had its premiere at The Avon Theatre in Stamford, CT.

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She starts with a number: 936.

936 Sunday lunches with family.

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Selected & Screened by The 7th Big Apple Film Festival 2010! Tribeca Cinemas, New York City
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I need to start by saying I’m NOT a big fan of Quentin Tarantino’s most recent work, and though I thought the opening scene of Inglourious Basterds one of the best scenes I saw all of last year, I have to say that overall I thought the movie boorish. The fact that he played fast and loose with history without a hint of warning to the viewer drove me crazy. When I left the theater that day I was sputtering in anger and disbelief.
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I watched my mother die.  Slowly.  My mother died from lung cancer.  My mother died from smoking.

It’s ten years ago now yet those last six months are as clear, as fresh in my mind, as if it was only ten months or ten days ago.  I only bring it up because a friend of mine is a smoker and I want to do an intervention…of sorts.  I won’t use her real name so let’s call her Elsie.  Good, old-fashioned name.  Rock solid name.  Rock solid like my friend.

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