I often fiddle a bit with my photos—not much, but subtly increasing contrast or emphasizing a hue here or there to intensify what I perceive as their emotional impact. Not so with the photo above.
In the midst of an errand-studded, socially-whirly, travel-mottled fortnight, and in lieu of lamely listing said dance card, I share an image that brings me peace, and the few words which occurred.
Among my sales that day, two, in particular, gave me pause. The first was a beaming woman, who bought a copy of “Maybe My Baby” to add to a large basket of books she carried.
It’s fitting to remember in a week of international climate discussions, this was a system that seemed unbreakable, untwistable, invincible.
I am traveling again this week, so I wanted to prepare my post ahead of time. A few sentences in, however, the phone rang.
Ever since I first learned to wash dishes and endure long car rides with siblings, I have dearly loved singing harmony. But I can’t join a conventional singing group. John and I travel so much that I would miss many rehearsals.
Flipping through notebook pages recently, I came across a little game I played with myself earlier this summer, and thought you might enjoy playing it as well
While all my posts won’t be about my recent wilderness trip, I do want to share the following.
Before we set off on our rafting trip, my brother Jim gave me my first fly fishing lesson–in a parking lot, so as to narrow my focus. A high point of the whole trip was the moment I physically understood
I’m back from Montana, safe and sound, but sobered both by the grandeur and the risk of the wilderness.
I am procuring and organizing equipment for next Saturday’s departure to Montana where I will join several family members for a week’s journey in the wilderness.
Am deep into my large writing project–hence I offer you the little koan above, which recently appeared in my notebook.
At today’s end, I will have completed my calligraphic marathon. Sign painting yielded to lettering on muslin for our annual Poetry Trail. Visitors will arrive later to film a promo in my studio—more about this another time.
Alas, all my words must be painted, not written this week.
