I have never opened a ripe mango and not wanted to lick it. It may be true that my first mango was not until I went to Mexico. If there was one before that I can only say it was not memorable and who cares about a forgettable mango anyway. No it was in my late...
One of the best things I could have done for my writing was to take a painting class. Though it uses the same skills that I use as a writer, I’m less obsessed with the outcome. I’m more aware of thoughts that encumber my progress. I notice areas of resistance and...
I hung the lonely pirate today, on the wall in my office. My mom bought it for me when she and Henry went to the Farnsworth Museum the spring before she got sick. She bought it for me because she said she thought of me when she saw it. The pirate looks defeated and...
As I reflect on the transition we are making from Spring to Summer, I think of how incredibly affected I am by the seasons. In fact, the manuscript of poems I am revising now is organized through the natural cycles of day and night, the seasons, and aging. Here are...
Though I finished reading Wild by Cheryl Strayed more than a week ago, I’m still mesmerized by the courage and determination it took for her to hike the Pacific Crest Trail all alone. But what has really stuck with me is the process of finding yourself through...
Today’s quote had to do with many dramatic situations beginning with screaming. It was a quote from Jane Fonda whom I remember my mother screaming about and I’m not talking about Make It Burn Jane Fonda as in my mother was not screaming because her buns...
