I believe that artists of all kinds not only have the right, but the obligation, to express their opinions on…
Reboot: Divorce After Fifty
“So it goes.” Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. used that phrase to mark every death, to signify the inevitability and perhaps our…
Saving the Wounded: Balancing Independence and Support
I know. I know that this will get better—this masked, COVID-19 isolation after seventeen years in a desolate bubble. I…
Autonomy and Isolation: Separating during COVID-19
I’m at the bottom of a well so deep that I can’t see the opening at the top. No light…
Welcome Home: A New Space
I shuffle around this new space, feeling it both too small and too large at times. Too small because I’d…
Moon Jelly Tide
A few days ago, we walked the beach on a cool, cloudy day. Moon jellies lay splattered about every fifty…
Loose Ends: Dangling
I let the day go by without comment. January 13th—the first anniversary of the day our Big Dog left…
Busyhead: Anxiety as a symptom of grief
My head is full of bees. Thoughts hum constantly and without direction. Grief has been the strangest animal for me.…
Lost Art
These things cloud my head (with my permission) like a perpetual flu. If I were an addict, I could blame drugs or booze, but my addictions are the 3 x 5 screen in my hand and the constant reexamination of pain and rage. Better to binge on pixels and past hurts than to leave the chasm in my brain agape because I simply can’t properly fill it.
Islands:
When my husband and I bought our first home, it was with the conviction that it was our last home.…