Today marks the 60th anniversary of the publication of Kerouac's most famous literary work.
I've lived in Brooklyn, worked in Manhattan, rarely been to Queens, coasted through the Bronx, and touched my toes on Staten Island. I've had one experience of the city, and it is hardly representative. But it is still authentic.
Sometimes you just have to step back and let the city tell its own stories.
If you’ll indulge me, I’m going to take another look back at my project, this time through song.
Last days are never as profound as they appear on television.
It was only my second of three days in England, and here I was, after having frantically raced to the bathroom, aggressively puking into my friend’s toilet.
Home is a base, a starting point, a fixture to which I latch a tether, however temporarily. Like a climber reaching for the next anchor point, I’m always searching for somewhere new to fasten a hold.