One month of illustrated short poems by Elizabeth G. Howard Since April I have been working on a 100 Day Challenge to write 100 poems in 100 days. Over the summer there were some distractions and I started to miss some days. As I approached August I decided to approach the month with more focus.…
A list of things the might happen to you when you read poetry you finish quickly you don’t feel full you encounter nature odd feelings come up you go somewhere else, on a trip of the mind everyday objects reveal themselves language unravels and twists around you feel uncomfortable, but not unhappy about that you…
What inside the podcast In the podcast, Vanessa Aricco tells the moral story her dad told her of the wind and the sun hanging out behind the clouds. They see this human walking down with a jacket on and the wind says: I bet I can get that jacket off him before you can. And…
“Never limit yourself because of others’ limited imagination; never limit others because of your own limited imagination.” – Mae Jamison She is as simple as daybreak. I don’t think she’s ever had a new pair of glasses — not least the frames — in the 13 years I’ve known her. She commutes to work in…
It seems we honor Ancient trees much more Than old people.
There’s a lot to be said about social media scrolling– both good and bad. Since I am perennially awake in the middle of the night, scrolling happens. Thank god for artists and Instagram. I follow those artists I know, those I like, and those whose work makes me happy. For me, Instagram gives me a…
Happy International Women’s Day, Bitches! What are we celebrating this International Women’s Day? First, let’s check in with the boys… Raise your hand, fellas, if you — like Gov. Andrew Cuomo — should resign for sexual harassment. Anyone? Bueller? Interesting, considering at least one-third of women have experienced sexual harassment at work. And 81 percent…
You do have to have some peace and quiet One of the truths about creativity is that it takes time. But sometimes, when you work in a creative “workplace,” you find yourself having to be creative, but also under the gun of having to crank shit out. It helps to be good at what you…
Measuring the distance between living, giving, and making meaning It is the soul and curse of the Enneagram 8 to not only know how to live with purpose, but to be unable to avoid it. Having done all I can to resist this label, I have eventually just given in — I have a calling…
Every 28 days, the full moon returns. Why is that monthly reoccurrence so magical? Why does it appear like a stranger in the sky? Why are there names for our full moons — the Strawberry, the Cold, the Harvest — and why are we made blue when two of them visit us in a calendar…
Remember Anne Hathaway? A few years back she Hosted the Oscars. A guy who shall remain Nameless was also there but Was he really? Because She danced, sang and Joked circles around him. I’ll never be Anne Hathaway (Or Rebel Wilson, for that Matter) but I do remember The fine figure she cut that Evening…
In my dream last night, I was at home with the kids (naturally not at any house I’ve ever lived in or recognize!), when a thing I love happened. People started just stopping by. The first person to come by was a few neighbors. They just came on in. Turns out that one of them…
We are all, always running away. I think at some point we have to accept that some people are not meant to stay still. They are always running away. But then again, who doesn’t? Why don’t we do it more? Just like we have to accept that some people don’t want children. Some people play…
I had 30 minutes in the car yesterday to think about what is waiting for us in the afterlife. It just so happens we were on the way to church. The kids traditionally read their books while we drive, but there was no “we” this weekend. Colin was out of town. So I had some…
Grey hair in streaks, falling straight down. Friendship, translucent and strong as fishing line Books, stacks of texts, leaning. Paper birds, emerging from the wet, hempy mash Disagreement, and dissent. Chickens in the back 40. Raised boxes and their bees. Voice, a cool shaded pond. Bob. Tomorrow, empty canvas. — for Susan, Day 12, Poetry Month
