I knew it had been my mom who read them to me. And I knew at last (or again) where my introduction came from.
…as the nest came more and more into being, I could feel myself gradually growing calmer, stronger. I felt its newborn energy reaching me across and through the physical space between us, settling over me like the gentlest touch from a loving hand.
There are still a few months before the Open House, which I think will be plenty of time to put a finished book together…
…painting seems to me no different than writing or any other art: after you learn some basic rules, everyone goes about it their own way eventually.
finding to my surprise
my soft, steady heart
beating soundly over
I started this painting today, recreating an old farmstead I photographed last September in Penn Yan, New York. I loved filling in the bright sky, but especially starting the green grass brimming with sunshine. And I love all the shadows, too. It will be fun to do this one, I […]
This poem arrived last night as I was following my usual evening routine of pulling down the blinds on my windows, shutting out the dark. The sun was setting so clearly and brightly in the sky just beyond, I stopped in mid-motion and stood there, watching, and instantly writing. don’t […]
What’s my purpose here? Should I stay? And if I do, what, if anything, do I do with it all?
I discovered this landlocked aluminum canoe laying dormant in the backyard on my recent trip to Pennsylvania. The bottom of its hull was covered in scratches from years of sliding over rocky river bottoms. You could still see them under the moss now covering its silvery surface. Clearly it had […]
I’m happy to announce I’ll be reading some of my poetry at this summer’s Bedlam Farm Open House.