I haven't written about my time in Singapore for a reason. It disproportionately features in my most secretively hoarded memories. Whenever I think back to my time in Singapore I can feel my heart quickening and pulse racing. I cannot help it. When I try to write about it I have a feeling not very... Continue Reading →
One of USA's favorite past-times seems to me to label. Jet's fan. Mid-westerner. Black American. Places are not spared either. University Town. A term that fascinates me because of the single identity that the name conjures up. The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill was warm. It was southern. And it produced two of... Continue Reading →
Last weekend I went visiting Syam in LA. His whole house was a mess. There was a piano that he hadn't touched in months. There was a dust-coated guitar propped up over the piano. Musical endeavors to make up for a culturally wasted youth. He must be 36. The kitchen was bustling with activity. We were... Continue Reading →
Virgin Mary, with her pasties on, high heeled stilettos and jiggling bums was stabbing the bread baby Jesus on stage. The burlesque performance was irreverently hilarious. One number was Charlie Chaplin doing a slapstick strip tease.I was constantly laughing and squirming. Another number was a blue haired Jesus with a skrillex cut conning a mercy... Continue Reading →
Paris is ever present in "In the Cafe of Lost Youth". It is gray and steeped in memory. Like an old wartime photo of Poland. The kind of photo that you think of when the mind is going blank and you acknowledge time is running right by you inexorably. But in a good-sad way. The... Continue Reading →
Talk to strangers. They offer the right mix of humanity and anonymity that thrills a confession. Many people I have spoken to have reaffirmed that some of the most honest conversations they've had are with insignificant strangers in their lives. The characters flit away to live their respective lives blithely unaware that they've left a lasting toeprint.... Continue Reading →
The stones were fiery red. They stretched all over the horizon blocking everything behind me. When I reached out to touch the fissures, the early morning sunlight had not yet warmed the chill of the night on them. Sedona, Chapel of the Holy Cross, did not disappoint. The Americas of the midwest was a different country.... Continue Reading →
There must have been atleast 50 iguanas placidly sunning themselves amongst the centuries old Mayan ruins. The sweltering heat steamed us into walking, baking pieces of meat wrapped in crisping human skin. Human tamales. The lizards had each staked out a tree, guarding its shady territory. Lazily glaring at the occassional intruder with a menacing slither... Continue Reading →
Inasmuch as needs were concerned, for those three days that I spent in the Green Mountains of Vermont, I was a perfectly content man. As far as I could see there were green trees poured over never-ending folds of mountains dissolving into cool blue-gray shape-shifting clouds. A wooden cabin filled with musty old books, hidden passages leading to... Continue Reading →
Precipices play an important role in my life. They make me stop and think. Waterfalls have the additional illusive trigger of static motion. It reminds me of being in the presence of a caged wild animal. The raw power it can unleash sends shivers down my spine even if all she ends up doing is flirtatiously spray cool... Continue Reading →
Impersonally Personal Stories.
my love affair with Russian literature
Pandora's Box for Art Lovers and Beauty Seekers
Nicole Higginbotham-Hogue is a lesfic author at amzn.to/36DFT2x. Sign-up for her newsletter at higginbothampublications.com
As I navigate through this life ...
Epic Literary Reviews & Insights
The Reluctant Book Worm 
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