I Could Have A Job As A

I Had No Proof That I Had The Stuff To Be An Artist, Though I Hungered To Be One.

For I Desired, As Youth Does, To Be Taken By The Hand And Hurled Into The World.

I've Lost Lots Of Men In My Life, Besides My Mother, Which Is A Whole Different Loss.

Usually When I Go To A Place For The First Time, Unless There's Something Historical Or Spectacular That Nature Has To Offer, The First Thing I Like To Do Is See What's On The Minds Of The People.

There Were Days, Rainy Gray Days, When The Streets Of Brooklyn Were Worthy Of A Photograph, Every Window The Lens Of A Leica, The View Grainy And Immobile. We Gathered Our Colored Pencils And Sheets Of Paper And Drew Like Wild, Feral Children Into The Night, Until, Exhausted, We Fell Into Bed. We Lay In Each Other's Arms, Still Awkward But Happy, Exchanging Breathless Kisses Into Sleep.