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It was a NYC winter's evening: cold and humid, yet the streets of lower Manhattan still echoed with the sounds of late winter partygoers, and the FusionArts gallery was filled with people come to hear the readers and view the art.
Some of the readers were outrageous in their histrionics, their subject arousing them to heights of demonstration. Others wherefore subdued, as if the personal nature of their writing left them shy, even reticent, about the things revealed.
|Carl Watson eventually took off the hat|
|Leonard Abrams and Carl Watson|
I've identified the people in these photos to the best of my ability. If you want to help, post a comment and I'll update the captions.
It was a good and pleasant time.