The light of August seeps into paper, weaves into the forest as vibrant as ignited confetti. A crow perches on a high cedar and calls into the air, half- song, half-scathing commentary. In the still heat of summer, memory simmers and shines: an oasis created out of worn books, crumpled letters, and tree forts swaying… Read More
Inscribing a list keeps me on my toes. Basic rules when generating a list: go big, be expansive, accept failure as part of the equation, and always use a pencil with a good eraser! Categories: books read, books I’m longing to read, books that must be re-read. Destinations…hmm…possibilities Goals (this is where the eraser comes… Read More
Summer palette deepens. The road curves toward home, overgrown and dusty. Notebooks fill up like baskets full of dry and fragrant kindling. I watch as hummingbirds thrum by – feathered kinetic energy. Studying cloud wisps, I imagine myself reclining on a raft, bobbing through a distant August day. It is delightful to be in multiple… Read More
Some words are steep. A cliff edge that dares the speaker to leap. Other words bubble to the surface when you cannot sleep. Or are found pressed like flowers between the pages in memory’s hefty book. Words can be spice or icing, a fortress wall that repels or a sound that entices. Wherever they come… Read More
A dusting of snowfall transports me to distant winters and the stillness of early mornings at the edge of a wilderness. The whisper and long shhhhhhhhh of skis on new snow. Impending weather and the stillness between acts. Winter sky that is the blue of yearning. drifting Clear light glints, collects, worries loose long ice… Read More
“All my life I’ve looked at words as though I were seeing them for the first time.” Ernest Hemingway Brimming with New Year’s resolutions, I find most of them have to with words. I continue to work on a novel that is nearly where it needs to be, on the illustrations and text of a… Read More
“I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape – the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn’t show.” Andrew Wyeth The wind folded, ice creased leaves. Summer leftovers. Lingering green ripples beneath a spangling of chill stars. I savor this… Read More
Walking Through the Valley of the Shadow “To teach superstitions as truth is a most terrible thing.” Hypatia The Writer Elkhound trots by my side, then bounds forward to chase after a squirrel running across the fence top. Later she winds around my legs and nudges me as I pause. The weight of the world… Read More
“I’m selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can’t handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best.” ― Marilyn Monroe Two of the characters I am writing are falling in love.… Read More
BUCKLE-UP Wilderness whups ass. No one is exempt. Ice cracks. Frozen lakes overflow. Bears charge down steep slopes. An inflatable raft springs a leak. A critical box of supplies gets left behind. WTF: where are the matches? Predators large and small are afoot. As are swarms of the most bloodthirsty of all: mosquitoes and no-see-ems.… Read More