I need to read Anne of Green Gables again. I need her outlook, her innocence, her romantic notions, and her joy. The book is sitting on my desk, ready for me to open to the first page. Perhaps I need it only to counteract the meaninglessness showcased in The Beautiful and Damned.* •••Each day is… Read More Well, It’s a Start, Anyway
I am growing old. Fifty is right around the corner: as in August, September, October, November, December, then January 1, 2, 3, … 16, 17, 18. And there it is: that half-century mark. I honestly have given it very little thought, and I have a feeling that it has everything to do with the fact… Read More Counting Down or Counting Up?
Positive. Positive. Positive. I think I’m slowly turning my head in that direction. Recognizing learning experiences for what they are, nothing more; acknowledging the guilt and overwhelming sense of responsibility that always dog my steps and leave me feeling like I could have done better; finding the good in my work and the people around… Read More A Slow Turning
Taking the boys out for haircuts today gave me time to pull out the copy of The War of Art that I keep in my tote. I read only the introduction, but it tugged at me and reminded that I once wanted to dissect the book, writing about it to see what I could get… Read More To War
A week or two ago, Charlie, my friend/electrician, who was here working on the latest renovation, walked into my studio, found me at my desk, and asked, “What do you do all day?” I supplied an evasive answer. I’m getting better at such moves. Perhaps it was the English major thing. You know, having to… Read More Tired of Explaining
I start and I stop. Then I start again, going through blogs like my sons go through sneakers. With their shoes, though, when it’s time to dump them, there’s no doubt in anybody’s mind (or nose). The holes (in bottoms, uppers, sides) are unmistakable clues that it’s time to walk into a shoe store. My… Read More Raw