A few weeks ago, I took a painting class. It wasn't my first class but it was a portrait and it involved a little more artistry and attention than I am used to demonstrating. And it reminded me so vividly of something I had worked on in high school that I just had to go dig around in the storage closet under the stairs until I unearthed it. I'm aware this is not evidence of great artistic genius on my part. But this charcoal drawing represents a long, long labor of love. And a lesson I am still struggling to learn....more
A long time ago I ran away from my life when I could not take one more second of my ex-husband's absurd gambling addiction. His personal turmoil left our whole family in a shredded heap on the floor. It was ugly. I needed safety, sanity and peace for myself and my children. ...more
As a much younger woman, I worked for a Buddhist chef as his Gal Friday. I sort of plugged in all of the holes in his small operation, from office duties to running errands to working the front desk to bartending. This was mainly a positive experience as he was a kind and gentle person and I got to don my beloved superhero cape on a regular basis, swooping in to save the day with my MAD COMPETENCE....more
This story goes back to when I still lived at home with my parents. My Uncle bought a house in the same town as us and he had become a bit of local legend with my friends who hung out at the same bar as him. They had all adopted him as their own Uncle because he is pretty much the coolest mad-scientist bachelor you will ever meet. He works as a chemist, but also runs his own eBay store to generate the income necessary to support all of his hobbies. Here is a list of my favorites:...more
YouI have known you all my life Though we have never metFrom my first fears as a young girlYou were my fierce protectorWhen I faced another lonely weekendWhile others kept each other warmYour words caressed my dreamsAnd softened the cutting cold...more
I sat on my balcony typing away furiously trying to get on top of my project before our two-week vacation. I had my red composition notebook nearby filled with printed half-stories and two handwritten pages. On the handwritten pages were 40 titles for articles I would write.