December 21, 2023
Opening scene: close-up on a fireplace. So hyper-real we could almost feel the embers and we could certainly see and hear it crackling. The extreme close-up lingered. We sat watching for several minutes. Evelyn was enraptured.
August 13, 2023
I paced as my mind went back and forth from confident to full of doubt. It was only an hour but felt simultaneously like five minutes and like a year.
February 28, 2023
Again and again, loss has taught me to slow down. To run lightly through this world of impermanence.
February 7, 2023
Despite being an old dog, he never seemed to tire of the winter. The more snow, the better. Bobalou’s celebration of each inaugural snowfall taught me to welcome the winter, to appreciate it as a season of renewal, to breathe in that cold, familiar midwestern chill as if it were a regenerative elixir.
January 31, 2023
I don’t have any pre-title adjectives attached to my name. In other words, I haven’t been called brilliant, haven’t been nominated, celebrated, acclaimed, or given a trophy for something.
January 24, 2023
Perhaps all things are beings, waiting for the right key to be turned at the right time, and we are but frustrated midwives, randomly trying different keys at different times to release them.
February 10, 2022
As I began my walk, I immediately noticed one thing: dandelions. I don't know how they do it every year, but they come in droves. Seriously, there were a lot of dandelions.