Notes From Inside A Pattern
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If The Chords Were Colors
If the chords were colors,
Sep 5
•
Joe DiCastro
5
2
Morning Light is Different
Morning light is different—softer, more supple, as if the sun itself is still gathering strength for the day ahead.
Sep 4
•
Joe DiCastro
3
Something In the Glow
I take my seat along the long edge of a majestic mahogany bar, its shape curling like a giant question mark.
Sep 3
•
Joe DiCastro
2
Watching The Light
We took our seats on a bench overlooking a wide emerald meadow beneath the sweep of a cerulean sky, where clouds moved in tones of white, gray, and…
Aug 30
•
Joe DiCastro
4
1
Tourist or Traveler?
Now that I’m back in my Brooklyn apartment after a week in Hyderabad, India for work, my mind drifts to Paul Bowles and the distinction he drew in The…
Aug 23
•
Joe DiCastro
4
Surgery and Cigarettes
I settle into my usual position in the dental chair: arms on the armrests, hands hooked over the front edges, elbows braced inside the corner where the…
Aug 11
•
Joe DiCastro
2
6
August Notes
This post contains links to each of the notes I published in August.
Aug 11
•
Joe DiCastro
1
Dust as Destiny and Metaphor
My eyes scan the surfaces of my smallish Brooklyn apartment, dismayed by the density of dust all around me.
Jul 26
•
Joe DiCastro
1
1
Floating in a Bath of Warm Color
I was floating in a bath of warm color, washed over by slowly shifting shades of every tint and tone I had ever seen.
Jan 2
•
Joe DiCastro
2
1
For Her and For Me
A flood of images and memories. Reveries wrapped inside of reveries. I thought of my sister, Jamianne, and I burst into tears. For her and for me. For…
Nov 17, 2024
•
Joe DiCastro
12
8
Fuck. I’m Scared to Die.
I am desperately in love with this life. Its endless patterns. Its ecstatic possibilities. I’m enraptured with seeing and feeling, enthralled with…
Nov 13, 2024
•
Joe DiCastro
5
5
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