• Thoughts

    An Unleashed Life

    My husband refers to life prior to the Plandemic of 2020 as “The Before Times.” I think of my own life as being split in a similar way, with the point of divergence being February 2022, when I began reading…

  • Poetry

    Alphabetical by Author

    Some days I findone of my mistakesthere on a shelf,standing tall. A title and a nameremind me ofwhere I’ve beenand longed to go;what I may have needed,thought I wanted;who I tried to be.

  • Thoughts

    One Line Leads to This

    Well, the post in my email inbox was only one line long and it intrigued me: “I really don’t like cagey people.” Celia Farber wrote it, and I had a feeling I knew exactly what she was talking about, so…

  • Thoughts

    Feeling the Emotions

    At least part of each of my days now includes reading old blog posts that I used to spend at least part of each day writing. So many words. So many ideas that belonged to others and that I thought…

  • Thoughts

    A Bird on the Wing

    A little Clairfontaine notebook with one entry: it was precariously perched among other journals on the shelf in my studio, and its paucity of purpose was bothering me enough to make me take it to my reading nest and use…

  • Thoughts

    What Is Shame Good For?

    If you want to break a pattern, respond differently. Such a simple statement. I would call it deceptively simple, and by that I mean more easily said than done. In fact, I would contend that, although responding differently is essential,…

  • Uncategorized

    English Major Heretic

    No institutional training required It’s a day ending in Y, so I am thinking about or starting a new website. Actually, in this case, it’s a new Substack, and this time, I’m asking others to join me. In short, I…

  • Thoughts

    The Big Lesson

    There is no teaching until the pupil is brought into the same state of principle in which you are; a transfusion takes place; he is you and you are he; then is a teaching, and by no friendly chance or…

  • Thoughts

    Be Who You Are

    I used to struggle to call myself a writer, an artist, a photographer. Didn’t I have to make money at something to be that?Even if I did make money at it, did the label really fit? Sometimes I forgot that…