This Substack is, in part, a space for the work that doesn’t quite “fit” or hasn’t found its place yet. And that’s the point of The Braunologue. If the piece matters, if it stays with you, if it feels like it belongs somewhere in the world, you can make that somewhere. In building The Braunologue over the past three years, I planned to publish a new essay every other Sunday that would go in-depth on an idea or personal story, but I also drop short moments from the in-between places at random every now and thens i call “Postcards From The Braunologue”. As Special Agent Dale Cooper said in Twin Peaks, “Every day, once a day, give yourself a present. Don't plan it, don't wait for it. Just let it happen."
I also like to think of this as “Public Scholarship”, a digital essay project combining memoir, performance studies, film criticism, pedagogy, and cultural commentary, open and free to the public focusing on storytelling, systems of participation, failure, and collective memory through accessible longform writing.
As stated, The Braunologue is free, because paywalls are fascist, but I do take donations and used cars, like an NPR station.
This picture is from My Director, or Dancing at The Pink Pony Club is Chapter 2 in Jack Kerouac's Old Apartment, On collaboration, memory, and the people who teach us how to let go, published May 03, 2026, about my decades-long relationship with the director Lucy Smith Conroy.
