What was intended to be the "About Me" section but was "more than 1200 characters."

    It is ironic that I finally scramble to write this “about me” section and officially create this blog on the last day of February of a leap year.  For reasons which are completely senseless and of my own personal agenda, I had set off in 2012 to make a blog “before March” (quoting an entry from somewhere between Michigan and Madrid in the fading inspiration of a New Year’s resolution, unable to sleep on the flight.)  And so here I am, and any other year it would be March. 
    I also find it bold to say that from this point forward every piece you find here will be drawn entirely from the present.  That’s not to say that experiences we cannot fully grapple with yet because they are so new should not be drawn from; look no further than sound journalism, for instance.  Chronicle by it’s very name, though, is a snapshot from everywhere, all time, past and present.  And everything you find here - poems, pictures, songs and lyrics, and other short writings - comes from somewhere profound: The hand-me-down rust-colored swivel chair in last year’s Ann Arbor apartment; my favorite rock formation I spent many a Sunday afternoon at in Segovia back in 2009, buses, lectures, trains, cafes, jets.  Jets*.  Kundera says “We live everything as it comes, without warning, like an actor going on cold.”  I saw that the other day, like when I saw the name Chronicle on a bus stop outside the Retiro Park advertising a movie of the same name and hurried on home to finally put up a place to document and store these time pieces from when the stage was black and the audience was both familiar and unknown. 








*cool word