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,...

In the Stream Together

We are living neath the Great Big Dipper We are washed by the very same rain We are swimming in the stream together, some in power and some in pain We can worship this ground we walk on, cherishing the beings that we live beside Loving spirits will live forever,...

Advice from the Cards

Seldom is tarot a subject of this blog, but today, as we enter our third month of pandemic, I felt it was time to find out what advice the tarot has for us right now. So I composed questions, opened my intuitive doorway, and let my hand choose cards from within my...

Ode to a Sweatshirt

As I reached happily for my well worn hooded sweatshirt again this morning, I wondered suddenly why I feel such affection for it, and for all those I’ve ever had, why I am always on the lookout for new ones to replace those that wear out, and why I am so excited when...

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...