Brown Girl Hair Has Left the Building
Bink loves girl hair. For the uninitiated, this translates to long straight hair hanging down, on a female of any age. Preferably, the hair should be visible equally on the right and left sides of her head. I’ve had long brown hair for 25 of my daughter’s 27 years. At one point, it grazed the […]
My Bread and Butter
Hello, dear blog. Hello, faithful tribe of readers. My neglect this past month stems not from writers block, but from posting block. Yes, it’s a thing, one which might even merit capitalization. Posting Block. I have spent mornings and nights in awe of the earth’s revolutions, the comings and goings of light and darkness. I’ve […]
Kind or Write?
I’ve been finding it challenging to encapsulate life with my daughter, Bink, lately. Hard to shape words for the page and even for casual conversation with friends, many of whom have their own experiences with parenting and/or caring for people they love who have special needs. It’s not for lack of material. Bink continues to […]
Temporal Tryst
Carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero, meaning “seize the day while trusting as little as possible on what tomorrow might bring”. Tomorrow In a daytime dream, the kind of interlude I once slipped into and out of as easily as frog to pond, and as shiny, with the slick lubricant of youth, I met some […]
Pentimento
pentimento noun pen·ti·men·to | \ ˌpen-tə-ˈmen-(ˌ)tō Definition of pentimento A reappearance in a painting of an original drawn or painted element which was eventually painted over by the artist The canvas: my face in the mirror, fifty eight years familiar with this world. Five or six, roaming like the free-range child I was, I caught […]
Tender
Tender. Unless I am speaking of meat, which I mostly don’t, the very word owns its ness, as in, what is tender evokes tenderness, and what calls that forth in me is that which I am drawn towards, or s/he whom I draw close, or want to. Draw close,touch, be connected with, and to— it’s […]
Hmmm. I thought I put me down right there
Here is Where All day the wind blew the trees against the house, and my old ears heard the hearty breeze as a roaring river, the kind that swells in spring, the kind that swallows half made nests the wind shakes from the breast of tight bushes and tosses carelessly towards the sky. Inside I […]
Our small eyes
Perchance Perhaps nothing begins or ends, not exactly. The field mouse knows the tall grass to be her world. We say morning comes, and yet it is always somewhere, just not in the very front of our small eyes. The trees are wise. They know everything cycles, seed to sapling, strong trunk reaches skyward,, and […]
Love is a Rendering
Love is a Rendering Telling you how I love you is like trying to find things that haven’t been said about the ocean. My hands prefer to paint it— affection, water— sweeping, striped backgrounds, turquoise and deep salient greens, silvery whites frosting every liquid peak, and there’s the sky hovering above the seas like […]
Dreamed some dreams
“A DREAM NOT INTERPRETED IS LIKE A LETTER NOT READ.” — The Talmud Last was a night of serial dreams, each building on the tangled mysteries of the one before. There was big sky, and journeying. There was an impossibly tiny stream and a dusty, broad road that earns the title of a trespass, as […]