"I wanted to point out what we have that's different, but how below that, we know many of the same things," Frazier has said of It was 2 AM, two Fridays ago, and I was lying supine in bed in my West Philly apartment. His words were pushing me to ensure that my own plans - for next month, for next year, for the rest of my life - would never erase those crucial places where wandering without a purpose is not just ok, but necessary; where asking myself "what are you doing? I got out of bed, put on a sweatshirt, and took a walk down Walnut Street to the edge of campus, above the Schuylkill and beside the ice rink. I had never been challenged so directly by a writer.Sandy Frazier's The Fish's Eye was six inches or so above my face. I had never felt so known by a stranger and so unsettled by a text.Jamaica Kincaid was born in 1949 as Elaine Potter Richardson on the island of Antigua.
Other readers see it as an example of the artful playfulness that characterizes his best work.As a staff writer for for twenty-one years, Frazier wrote feature articles, humorous sketches, and was a frequent contributor to the magazine's "Talk of the Town" section.In 1982, he left Manhattan for Montana, where he began the research for (1997).I came to page 99, the last paragraph of Sandy's essay titled "A Lovely Sort of Lower Purpose." I read, then re-read, then re-read again these words: "A plan will claim the empty acres Ö The place's possibilities, which at the moment are approximately infinite, will be reduced to merely a few." I stopped. That night, and every day since, Sandy's words have been a presence in my mind - a tension, a reminder, a push to lay myself bare.He inspired me to continually seek out that site we have taken to call the Third River - the sort of out-of-the-way, unlikely American place that one only really sees when one is paying special attention.