journal
the crossroads of art and life
A Girl and Her Chicken
The last months of 2019 are in the rearview mirror, and I'm happy to have them behind me. I leave that time a little bruised and vulnerable, having lost my mother to a rapid decline from stage 4 cancer in mid November. She was a force of nature and a muse to many. I'm...
The Pleasant Consequence of Interruptions
Memory flashback: June 7. I set up my easel at the corner on Belknap Brook Rd and Dairy Hill in Tunbridge, Vermont. Morning breeze keeps the black flies in check (sort of) and the farmhouse just up the meadow from me is lit in filtered sun. Chervil is blooming along...
Someday It Will Be Us
Autumn dusk is hitting its prime. Walking the dog back home I see lights coming up in the village windows. It brings to mind the ones who inhabited these houses before my time. Their benevolent spirits linger throughout this valley and its hilltops in the many...
Contemplating Hugs
On a waterfront plaza in Kingston, Ontario, last week our family of three saw a women with a Free Hugs sign. The woman was in her 60s and was with another friend. No one was taking her up on the offer, and I casually suggested to my daughter that she get a hug. She...
It is Better to Speak Remembering
Recently the poet David J. Bauman shared some lines from Audre Lourde. My eyes are still wet while processing her words about listening and speaking and all the nuance in between. We had a spirited dinner discussion last night about the power of listening and when to...
You Will Hear Music
Who will be the future apprentices—the ones who will put in the time? Hammer the metal one thousand blows to make the perfect horseshoe? These are things I think about when I despair about smart phones and sound bytes and plastic debris filling the oceans. When my...
Bicycles, and Hello to My Younger Self
Last night we grabbed bicycles and took a little spin down the road and back. After years of living on mountaintops, we live in a fairly flat valley now. An evening jaunt on a bicycle is a pleasure instead of a distressing, heart-attack-inducing grind. My daughter...
Pretending
So much of adulthood is about responsibility and making good impressions. Setting an example. It's been dreary and rainy day upon day, week upon week. When the sun shines it's when I've needed to keep butt in seat, face to a screen. By this morning I am getting really...
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