Tag Archives: essay

Homesickness

Posted on December 2, 2025 by John Biscello

   What is that feeling?    Allow me to cite certain examples which attempt, in vain, to touch upon the vagaries of that sensation, that feeling. It is like longing to be at home when you are already at home. … Continue reading →

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Road Test

Posted on December 1, 2025 by John Biscello

   I spent a great deal of my twenties canned inside the dank sweaty armpit of travel Americana: Greyhound. My longstanding affair with Greyhound was born from a blended cocktail of economics and innate romanticism. As a young man with … Continue reading →

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Causeless

Posted on November 28, 2025 by John Biscello

   We used to be called human, that is, our actions were considered human if we acted with compassion and mercy. Yet we have been killing and maiming and igniting wars since time immemorial … so isn’t that, based on … Continue reading →

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Process and Zeitgeist

Posted on November 6, 2025 by John Biscello

It was what Crowfeather called the Blue Star ceremony, or Above Air ceremony. It took place on Winter Solstice 2020. It wad during the enigmatic, unsettling and ominous period of COVID, the virus that was upsetting the balance of the … Continue reading →

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Fruit

Posted on August 26, 2024 by John Biscello

I was happy to find out that my story, “Fruit,” was selected as a “Brooklyn 2023 Non-Fiction Prize Finalist” for Brooklyn Film & Art Festival’s competition. A filmed recording of the piece is being scheduled. “Fruit” can be read here.

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The Passion of Joan of Arc

Posted on April 17, 2018 by John Biscello

(Review of The Passion of Joan of Arc, the silent film classic, which is celebrating its 90th anniversary.) Celebrating its 90th anniversary, Dreyer’s film remains starkly modern in its composition and complexion, fixed in an otherworldly and hallucinogenic present. Jean Cocteau … Continue reading →

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Flea Bitten

Posted on January 9, 2018 by John Biscello

Greyhound: A sleek, streamlined, swift-as-the-wind breed of dog. A coughing, sputtering, wheezing, smoke-blowing mutt, prone to flea infestation.    I spent a great deal of my twenties canned inside the dank sweaty armpit of travel Americana: Greyhound.  It was an … Continue reading →

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