Al Sullivan's Journal

Sunday, February 24, 2013 I haven’t strolled through this part of the city in years and I’m always surprised to find the old hal...

 Saturday, February 23, 2013 I’m back to routine breakfast at the Coach House each Saturday morning, to collect the news, if not the...

"I am a rock, I am an island ... I have my books and my poetry to protect me." -- Paul Simon January 17, 1981 I wal...

Toads became symbolic of who I was and for several years, I drew them in my journal, not as large as this one, but often doing things like r...

April 13, 1980 She tends weeds Raises them like children Opaque wild flowers, Cuts them and prunes them Sometimes, she...

April is the cruelest month -- oh yeah!   April 13, 1982 There’s a grayness about, a fog that flows out of me, a terrible, terr...

Monday, February 18, 2013 I found her name again in an old notebook I was transcribing, the women I had met at a wedding of a clas...