If I were a painter, I would wear a twist of string tied to my ankle long ago by a lover who never promised and left before I ever asked. I would live and work in an echoing flat with iron floor-to-ceiling windows and colorful but cracked tile in the tiny toilet. The window near…
Things are far better today than they were years ago. Today’s music is just as good, if not better than, The Stones, Bob Dylan, and Elvis. The benefits of technology far outway the blown-out-of-proportion drawbacks. Netflix and Bitmojis are like glitter. Not necessary, but kind of fun. Today’s children believe respect is earned. The…
I am a writer. When asked, upon meeting someone new, “What do you do?” these four words are tough for me. Lately, I’ve been wondering why. “I am a writer,” sounds silly, whimsical, not quite, “I’m a circus performer,” but close. They are fine words, even great, when I am in front of my computer, or…
A moment past her prime, Marthe tilted her chin forward. It was a trick taught by her mother that “elongates the neck and makes your decollate irresistible.” She hoped it was working because she felt a bit like a fool, or a giraffe, maybe a foolish giraffe. Boning poked at the tender skin under her arms,…
Glitter gets the attention, but for all its flash, it is delicate, vulnerable. The wind or a breath can easily carry it away. Glue sticks. It helps the glitter hold on. Glue can be in glitter’s fairy dust presence, but glue is covered, underneath. They are a suited pair. I remember being in early grammar school…
During a particularly difficult time in my life I bought a print of this painting. The title is Flaming June and about twenty years ago, I was 23, naive and going through some tough things. I needed June. At the time, I didn’t know the painting was famous. Something spoke to me, and even though I…
I have always wanted to play an instrument. Well, let me say that when I go to the symphony, or I see people playing instruments with ease and proficiency, I feel…I feel like I want that in my life. I want to play the cello, I want to be on stage when the lights dim,…
Hemingway called Paris a “movable feast.” I’m not really a Hemingway fan, but when he says, “If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris … then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast,” I have to agree. There is something about…
Silence. It is very quiet where I live. I have a clock in my office and there are days when all I hear is a light tick and the tapping of computer keys. I love those days. I like loud music, laughter, lively conversation, just as much as the next person, but silence is a…