Decorating in the Dark

November is an odd time of the year to redecorate. But we’ve had to rebuild walls to rebuild relationships (a nod to Frost), and I’ve been staring at color swatches. Forest greens and rich mustard colors. I heard the other day that infants stare longest at deep yellows, and that only as we age do…

Blocked Path of Desire

It’s been a time. I’ve been restructuring my work life. My home life. And my online presence. Please be patient with me.  

Autumn’s Tension

We wait and sense the slow pull as the word turns. We watch its curving rolling under us. Sometimes I think that if I hover long enough the warm lands will come to me reaching with green feathers from a brown earth

Migration

There is nothing now but the liquid and mist and the dark points of reference their songs carrying a sharper edge that my eye can see – half my brain sleeps and is still in the fuzz of black belonging oily comfort deep warmth – half mind like a cage around my heart which beats…

News: Summer, 2019

A fallow year and slow growth. But there was the surprise of Struga. An invitation to be a guest at the Struga Poetry Festival Evenings was so out-of-the-blue that I thought it was a vanity scam.¬†But what a gift. Not only the honor of being invited, but the pleasure of hearing the other 34 poets…

April 10th, 2019

the birds are loud this morning a cacophony of disparate songs not always easy, not always like a pretty poem – even the thrush is contentious    

April 8th, 2019

To name God is meaningless. In all our attempts to create we only delineate. What we call our mind is inextricably linked to our body. And our body, mostly not what we have defined as our own. Birdsong is nothing without the air and an ear to hear it.

March 31st, 2019

I’m having a difficult time committing myself to a form for social media/online presentation. Loads of ideas, and little follow-through. I have to admit, I wrote more (and better perhaps) when I wrote offline with the conscious choice to not share any of it. I’m working my head around that experience still: What it means…

May 23rd, 2019

It hovered just above freezing last night. Maybe that is a sign of spring. When I stop to consider, it seems as though I will never again feel the sun on my bare arms. It’s as though the moment has always been winter. Summer is so distant a memory, I am uncertain it is a…

March 12, 2019

I was reading an article that rebuked people for their “buffet Buddhism”. Which was interesting in light of the fact that the Dalai Lama himself recommends the buffet approach for Westerners. The article consistently and exclusively referred to Buddhism as a religion. It linked Buddhism with the belief in a specific form of reincarnation without…

March 11, 2019

Over the past 8 years, I’ve become an early riser. Last summer a friend of mine playfully scolded me for my early bedtime. She said I was missing out on the beauty of the sunsets. Wasting the time. She sits on her balcony near the ocean and watches the sun go down on those long,…

March 9th, 2019

Sunday rant on a Saturday: I am on my browser, using my home wifi. I am patiently sitting through an ad that precedes the trailer for a film coming to the cinema next week. This is normal. I’m paying to watch an ad to watch an ad for a product I might want to pay…

March 6th, 2019

Dear DLD, Yeah, so I’m going to do it: “I had this weird dream”. A stressful dream anchored in S.’s story at the dinner party last night – about the electric scooter with the warning label that it was not recommended for people over 50. I bought one. And I was trying to get from…

March 4th, 2019

Dear HXH. Playing with form again. Perhaps not the most productive way for me to work these days, but an old habit. Handwriting on unlined paper. Numbers and scratches for iambs and spondees. Illegible corrections. I pulled a book off the shelf. What made me think of you? I keep throwing myself at the feet…

March 1, 2019

I am not a creature constructed for journal-writing. Is it odd that I am just now discovering this? I need to talk to someone. Living or dead. Part of me is concerned that this means I am defined by others. After all, we use one voice speaking to one person, and another when turning to…

February 17th, 2019

These weeks have rushed by – to say like the wind is a clich√© – but this morning I opened the door to the deck to let Leonard out, and the air was still. It’s just above freezing, so the cold is more of a caress than a bite. Still winter, though: there’s no bird…

February 6th, 2019

I keep seeing myself in the center of the lake. On a still day, and everywhere is blue and quiet – except for where I am waving my arms about, thrashing my legs against imagined, deep threats complaining about the turbulent water. This is my morning meditation as my mind passes through the blue candle…

The Tribe

Dear Di, I want a knight just like the one in your photo. I would put him in the corner of my bibliotekette, and on cold mornings like today I would glance over and think of you, and I would remember what it’s like to sit and write in the heat of sunshine. I’d remember…