I would write a beautiful book, a beautiful story… But it may not be pretty….
Now the pre-dawn glow of Christmas tree lights and lazy embers from the fire nudged me awake, gently reminding me that I had no pressure of a day’s schedule.
The beginnings of flight are incredibly awkward-looking…
..their forces collide continuously..it is a sound unexpectedly raw…
I blame my mother. And Kevin… And perhaps I have even learned to laugh at myself a bit.
April 20, 2019 For the umteenth time, I started writing my book. Two days ago I began, my session… Read more The Fifty-Ninth Word
March 28, 2019 I hadn’t been certain ‘vayomer eliohim’ were even proper words. Until three days ago I had been… Read more Vayomer Eliohim
My buildings, my dreams of the business of the gallery, and my dreams of my own creative pursuits scare the creativity into me…my family, my life, and my career in a very corporate world scare the reality into me.
Sunday, November 4, 2018 Eleven people died this week at the hands of another person who never knew… Read more Birds of a Feather, Indeed.
Not for even my own ego, not to show off, not to compete..Not for my parents, not for a man, and not for spite..