I let my imagination swim in the open water, long strokes, cooling my thoughts, stretching the tight and rigid muscles of the mind.
I love to sleep. As Ernest Hemingway so eloquently claims, “my life has the tendency to fall apart when I’m awake, you know?” For example, just this morning, before I opened my eyes, I received a facetime call from my daughter Julie (I’m at the lake, she’s in the Bay Area house), and the image […]
You’ve heard the adage bloom where you are planted? Well, that sort of rubbed me the wrong way, I started thinking about what kind of growth one should expect in the time of corona, with COVID for soil. And no fertilizer! My dad had a great sign that he staked in his garden, it said […]
It’s April, the landscape is bursting with color, we’re sheltering in place up at the lake as a way of salvaging our sanity, but in truth I’m here to engage the scenery and the silence, to come to the edge of my imagination, and to write. As Wayne Dyer claims everything that’s created comes out […]
Our landscapes are formed not only of soil and rock but through the eye of the beholder if you will. For example where I might see a lush structure rooted in the moist soil, it’s plentiful arms reaching towards the sky as if in sacred worship, clothed in a russet silk gown, dancing in the […]