If I threw a rock down the gullet of this deep, lonely blog, would it hit at the bottom? Would it splash into some river run-off of old melancholy or all has that all dried up? Lodge itself into the thick damp remnants of fear. Or would that flung rock just hit the dry, cracked … More Echo echo echo echo….
On Thursday evenings, I attend a class called “Intuitive Writing.” A small group of us are led by amazingly gifted author and teacher (and just plain happy, kind, and soulful human being), Katherine Jenkins. Her book “Lessons from the Monk I Married” has been translated into multiple languages and she writes a blog with the … More The Art of “I Am”
Nature doesn’t take more than it needs. When it rains, the drops are welcomed for what they are. Used up quietly. Sunshine is thanked in the way leaves warm to green and birds chime at daybreak. Nature waits and blooms and fades, pushing into or pulling against a river’s current or sandy soil. Nature finds a … More Nature, Nurture
Here’s what I know, today. Leaving a job I hated–after trying so very hard to love it–was something I should have done sooner. For five years, I worked my heart out in the middle of a little island, doing work that felt important at the time. For over two of those years, I had been … More Don’t think. Just do.
Do you read The Paris Review Interviews? Beautiful bits of writerly wisdom and insight. A recent link in my Twitter feed pointed me to the 1986 interview of W.S. Merwin, one of the first poets I read in my second stint of university, a time when I was feeling so very connected to the art of words. Of the many ways to understand and define … More W.S. Merwin On Poetry: “The completeness of life.”
His voice from across the tavern table, drew sounds upward from a windworn notebook, low, sure, and gravelled on every few consonants. It pulled in a page of etched words, dark ink, about an ocean and long days of quiet at sea. When he finished, his worked and bitten fingers folded the pages back over … More Toby
Walter White. If you know this name, you know Heisenberg. It’s been weeks since the series finale of “Breaking Bad.” In this house, we are veiled in lethargic mourning. Evening television is flat, faulty, unsatisfying now that we have finished a month-long Netflix marathon of watching the life of Walter White evolve and dissolve. I miss … More My Inner Heisenberg