On Being Accepted To The New School for Social Research

I was accepted into the MA Philosophy program at the New School for Social Research in the Greenwich Village neighborhood of New York City.

I was accepted for the Spring 2010 term but I have not yet received word from the Admissions Department on scholarship funding. Depending on the funding I receive will determine if I move now or defer admission to the Fall semester. * Here's me crossing my fingers *

Reasons why the New School is a great choice for me:

1. New York City!
2. A closet for an apartment!
   
3. Strong emphasis in Continental Philosophy!
4. Concentration in Psychoanalysis
5. Continental Philosophy and Neuroscience (that's a course)
6. Simon Critchely is the head of the department 
7. Anna Stoler teaches at the New School as well.
8. Lots of Philosophy
9. Lots of close reads of philosophical texts
10. Poor and educated

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Photographs of Friends: Ruby On Fridays (Not Ruby Tuesday, and Some of the Pictures Are Not Ruby)

I took pictures of friends recently when we all hung out.

Ruby, a former colleague but still a friend — not as in Ruby Tuesday — frequents the city of crescents.

The flare of red: "Aphrodite on a half-shell."

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Prose Poem: Saint Charles Avenue Streetcar at Hickory (On a Rainy Tuesday)

Saint Charles Avenue Streetcar

The neighborhood streets are filled with a nice one-inch blanket of water. The Toyota is at school on high ground; I'm happy to be a transit commuter for a bit. The rain is heavy; slight fog. Streetcar comes to a halt at the Riverbend so the conductor can get herself a jelly donut. 

Lady tells me, "Supposed to be like Saturday. Supposed to be like Saturday. Tulane and Claiborne flooded, Lord, Oh Lord. I'm surprised right here ain't flooded." 

It ain't nothing but "a hair flip" thang, I tell her, flipping my hair in dramatic fashion. Mother nature's a bitch, but you just swat your hair *me imitating Chris Crocker * like that. That's what you do. Sure do.

The streetcar starts up again. I'm relieved I won't be late for work. We're finishing up some miscellaneous myths. Perhaps we'll do flood myths; sounds a propo.

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Commuting to Work: Saint Charles Streetcar at Rosa Park

In this post, I talk about commuting to work on the Saint Charles Avenue streetcar.

-everyday that i commute to work on the saint charles streetcar i take a photo. /-)

today was especially foggy; wet; the streets are still soiled from saturday's rain; poseidon licked his lichen lips to the city's dirty pits.

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Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

i love puppies

sleeping;

puppies

love i

text and image © Greig Roselli

Inspired by Armistead Maupin's The Night Listener: A Dedication to Mourning

I think Armistead Maupin wrote in his novel, The Night Listener, that sadness can be a physical thing, “wet and woolen” — he called it, a tangible entity that clings to us, heavy and damp. This poetic imagery captures the essence of how grief and sorrow manifest not just emotionally, but physically as well. Our bodies become the canvas on which our sadness paints its hues—sometimes subtly, sometimes glaringly.