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...Deep Rest
Still resting in the pause of the sun, the eclipse of the new moon, listening to the stars sing in the dark… What is singing to you now? Where is stillness waiting for you? I’d love to hear. (click on the picture for a sharper view)...Respite from the Mind
I’ve just returned home from several enchanted days on Lake Superior. My greedy mind — muted for awhile by movement, story, song, beauty, affection, and silence — now wants to read mail, catch up on national news, make necessary appointments, resume tasks set...Summons
The other day I stopped into the Penn Lake library to retrieve a book being held for me. I intended to pop in and out, absorbed in thinking about my next errand and my plans when I got back home. As I bustled to the hold area for my book I was dimly aware that the...A Search for Home
I’ve been thinking about home. And the longing for home. For a long time I have wanted to move, probably out of Minnesota, but when I think about where to go, I get muddled. Because I think there might be several kinds of home, and mine pull me in different...Share This Post
Welcome to Whisperings
“There is a place where words are born of silence,
A place where the whispers of the heart arise.”
— Rumi
I will ponder here what whispers to me in the silence. I’d love for you to whisper back; maybe we will all get clearer—or maybe, like in the old kids’ game of “telephone” we will end up somewhere else entirely (which would be fun too)
