On the struggle with the existential meaning of writingOne of the toughest parts about being a writer/artist is doing the work. The nitty-gritty everyday work. The reason isn’t writer’s block or lack of time. There’s always time — everyday — for me to sit down and write. The reason — for me, and I am…
(and make it an action word) 2018 was pretty rough right? I’m not down for resolutions… and even though a Burning Bowl ceremony sounds pretty cool, that’s not my bag either. For 2019, I feel like there’s only one answer and it’s this: commit to every day, wild, active, radical LOVE. What is Radical Love?…
The extremely useful writing website Writer’s HQ recently called for pitches related to the theme of “Resistance” and writing. For me, the idea of resistance and protest is highly emotional. I’ve been known to get “worked up” on a topic or two in my day! Any person who stands ready to challenge the status quo…
In reading the pile of reports the school sent over regarding my youngest child, I thought: that’s not me. On every occasion in parenting, I am reminding how very few people I encounter — whether as friends or acquaintances — who really understand me. They do exist, and they are ridiculously loyal. But the by…
There’s a reason why we every year we do that “resolution” thing at the new year. It has to do with hope. The turn of the new year is a false sense of new beginning. But it’s one we love to embrace. It’s proof of the enduring human spirit and our attachment to hope. Every…
Can I change the world? That is the question I want to put to myself and to other writers in my re-boot of THE BIG QUESTION series at Letters from a Small State this month. Why this question? Because it leads to so many questions! Is the American experience rapidly becoming a series of knee-jerk…
In the face of the senseless Las Vegas shooting, how do we get through a day like today? I felt frozen most of the day, the horror buttressed by the president’s hypocritical and milquetoast response. How do I get through a day in which the acid undercurrent of anger and instability that has been pouring…
It’s a perfectly lovely, breezy day, and I’m walking my daughter to school and taking the dog for a stroll. Conversation surrounds whether the dog minds being on a leash and “Dogs have feelings too mom!” I’m feeling general anxiety I haven’t felt in weeks, frustration that ebbs over the general state of the world…
All the original everything has Rolled out the factory. The Whatsits and Whosees along with Their two point oh children Now retired to a retail museum. Wait awhile: won’t be long ’til The oily new marketing rep Sells the idea: it’s time to reinvent you. Latin is dead. Long live the King Of Romance, the…
It’s true I have trouble with you, With everyday compassion, Because It means forgiving the person Who drops poop bags to the ground– Listening between sarcastic comments for Pain and fatigue. Everyday compassion the Off-gassed namesake of Life. I’ll have to be More than OK with rigid people– Got to See myself in them, to Assume…
(This post is a part of the #reverb16… what’s that? Check it out!) Gifts giving and gift receiving is inevitable from here on out until the 25th and beyond. With that in mind, today’s prompt asks us to slow down and consider… Prompt 7: White Elephant: What are the gifts you’re looking forward to giving, or…
Lately I’ve been having some trouble writing. Particularly here on my blog. I suppose I have blog writing block. I am going to write about that today, to pass through it a bit. Feel free to skim or skip over this post if that isn’t your thing. The trouble with blog writing block is the…
My mother was not sentimental. She saw the world in a very pragmatic way. If you were not feeling happy, well… just cheer up. If you were feeling ill… well, wait awhile. Things were bound to change. I wished I’d asked my mom more questions about her own level of self-awareness. Did she think about…
All of life is a thing marked and used.This is the island where my mother is still living. There is not a great deal of the “normal” here. We are just a bunch of hangers on. For those of us here, we are eating off the breadcrumb trail from whence we came. There is a lot…
The deluge came out in the general direction of Ridgefield artist Randi Jane Davis this past weekend at City-Wide Open Studios. Her painting (above), called “Three Blind Men” (in private collection) wasn’t the only wonderful piece of work I’d seen that day. But it was the one that reignited my feelings about aloneness. So Ms. Davis…
