Writer/editor. New Mexican tumbleweed blown east to skyscraper country.
Right now, I am working on a book about F. Scott Fitzgerald, Sheilah Graham, and Hollywood in the 1930s. It will also contain a lot of drinking, powder blue suits, dances at the Cocoanut Grove, betrayal, gossip columns, crazy ladies, secret Jews, film lot moguls, and Dorothy Parker quips at funerals. If the world is still around then, it should be out from Random House around 2014. So let's hope the Mayans were wrong.
If you want to say hi please do. Or find me in short form, here.
I’ve been hearing about this site for a while and it has finally launched. There is, at least at this point, a pretty impressive catalog of mini-documentaries on artists, their studios, and their processes. It was watching little films like these that got me into art in the first place; it all seems so huge and esoteric until you hear someone speak about it. Watching Richard Serra wax about his MoMA exhibit you end up thinking, “woah,” but also “huh. so he’s just a dude who makes steel things.”
