by Daniel J. Travanti | Sep 15, 1993 | Essay
September 15, 1993 Daniel J....
by Daniel J. Travanti | Sep 15, 1993 | Essay
September 15, 1993 I’m beginning to see when I’m in my house, I feel that I must work. It’s not a place of relaxation. I’ve joked about...
by Daniel J. Travanti | Sep 9, 1993 | Essay
September 9, 1993 Daniel J....
by Daniel J. Travanti | Sep 3, 1993 | Essay
When I moved to Los Angeles in the 60’s, I liked the sight of a red barn on La Cienega Boulevard. It was a bookstore. They sold used books and new, old ones, first editions, and rare copies. I went in once and felt overwhelmed. I felt that way when I was a...
by Daniel J. Travanti | Aug 28, 1993 | Essay
Chicago Great Lakes The lake is long. Lake Michigan is only the second largest but it’s an ocean. From Lakeshore Drive, it is clean and rippled, detritus, dirty wet sand. At the water’s edge, the sand is washed. On the sidewalk there was paper and plastic, jagged...
