A Trail Through the Murk

The pleasant shifts in the air I felt a couple weeks ago seem to have fled in recent days. Quite patient until now, today I’m tired of pandemic precautions. Longing for travel. Tired of winter. Maybe I am undone because the vaccine and the increasing sunlight...

Fruit and Death

Autumn Haiku  Sprawled on sunny ground Crunchy leaves and dusty grass Scent of fruit and death  AEP 10/9/20 Fruit and death. The scent of autumn, and what comes to mind as I clear out the house we’ve lived in for nearly 30 years. Finding things long forgotten,...

Painting With My Dead Friend

Holly, a dear friend of mine, died last summer. She was a writer and a creative soul in many ways, including artmaking of all kinds. She was an imaginative free spirit who appreciated the unconventional. So her art was usually quirky. Self-taught, she didn’t often...

Images of Insecurity

Until a few days ago I was at a retreat center in upstate New York. Twenty women and the facilitator, Jalaja Bonheim, came together for a week, experiencing the powerful geometry of the circle, allowing sacred space and silence to fortify us and help us move from...