Christian Molenaar

Author: cdmolenaar

  • Big Gas Cycles

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    1998? Read more

  • 2025

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    I started the year with no greater plans than a set at the Brown Building alongside Amy Cimini and Sean Jones playing my songs for voice and cello. Somehow that turned into a full twelve months of gigging and recording, the busiest year I’ve had post-lockdown. Below, the highlights (and lowlights): Read more

  • Comic as Christmas

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    Merry Christmas from Babs, aka Willie Masters’ Lonesome Wife. Read more

  • Fragment

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    Mr Callanan felt homely. There was a good fire burning in the grate and he knew that it was cold outside. He had been about town all day shopping with Mrs Callanan and he had met many friends. These friends had been very friendly, exchanging the compliments of the season, joking with Mrs Callanan about Read more

  • Late Season

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    Stay yet, pale flower, though coming storms will tear thee,My soul grows darker, and I cannot spare thee. Read more

  • tall:shadow @ Aztlan Libre 12/13/25

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    Coinciding with Tall Can’s recent release from prison, Aztlan Libre’s fifth annual El Barrio No Se Vende show offered the perfect opportunity to showcase his photography documenting the restoration of the Chicano Park murals. Read more

  • Pilostyles Wildflower

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    𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖘𝖊 𝖔𝖑𝖉 𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖑𝖞 𝖇𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘 𝖚𝖕 𝖔𝖓 𝖙𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖕𝖍𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖉𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖘 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖑𝖊𝖙’𝖘 𝖘𝖊𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖕𝖎𝖌𝖘 𝖔𝖓 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖊 Read more

  • Two Poems for Thanksgiving

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    One day is there of the seriesTermed Thanksgiving DayCelebrated part at table,Part in memory. Neither patriarch nor pussy,I dissect the play;Seems it, to my hooded thinkingReflex holiday. Had there been no sharp subtractionFrom the early sum,Not an acre or a captionWhere was once a room, Not a mention, whose small pebbleWrinkled any bay, —Unto such, Read more

  • Los juegos de territorio no se vende

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    Two shows in a small world Read more

  • From Ashes Like the Phoenix

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    Read more

Thought:

“What is a first love worth except to prepare for a second?
What does the second love bring? Only regret for the first.”

John Milton Hay

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