…sense memories niggling at the back of your brain like caramel corn and candy apples, or mulled cider simmering on the stovetop. Or that one overused autumn trope that deserves to find its face on a red Solo cup.
As a huge fan of our Constitution‘s First Amendment, Banned Books Week is one of my favorite weeks of the year. It feels a little like doing battle with the specter of the Dark Ages. Banned books? Is this even a thing in 2019? In America? My daughter and I have a longstanding tradition stemming from […]
It’s no secret that I have liberal leanings. I’ve said before that I wish we were “socialist for what we need, and capitalist for all the little luxuries we want,” which oversimplifies, but sums up a “mixed economy” fairly well. I care about people. I believe that, so long as we have it in our […]
Do we really need to regulate the minutiae of human interaction? Or is it enough to warn of the bigger pitfalls – social gaffes that might well start a war?
Thank you, Dad… …for demonstrating the importance of education, and setting a good example; …for letting me play with your monstrosity of a calculator – I would never understand the math (no doubt, to your everlasting frustration), but its resemblance to a typewriter surely had some influence on me; …for your even temper; …for taking me nice […]
It’s easy to write “100 Things About Me.” But almost nine years ago, I was challenged to write “100 GOOD Things About Me.” Let this serve as an introduction to newcomers, here, as well as a list of affirmations. If you prefer a visual intro, click here. 100 GOOD Things (in No Particular Order, Plus […]
There’s a little game I refuse to play. It’s called, “You can’t be friends with me if you’re friends with [fill in the blank]!” My stock answer to that is, “Fine, I’m sorry you feel that way. I guess we can’t be friends.” I don’t care if the person saying it is my best friend […]
My writing is identifiable – it is a redolent of Agatha Christie cookies, with a hint of Stephen King cake, and a healthy side Anne Rice. It is male, with a softer side. European female, maybe. Gender fluid, and ageless as time itself. That’s just a nice way of saying “AI is stupid.” Or maybe I really AM Stephen King…. How would YOU know?
I have many friends who live in the little box under my desk. Now and then, I’m lucky enough to meet them, face to face, sometimes decades after cementing our friendships online. In 2016, I posted an interview by my friend Todd Kruse of artist Carl Yoshihara. Those two have taught me to appreciate abstract […]
I don’t like these games. There’s a carnival barker in my head, holding out an enormous deck of tarot cards: “Pick a word, any word, just one word to be your guiding light in the coming year…” No! I sense a trap. Resist… yes, that’s a good word. The whole idea triggers an obstinate resistance. […]
I talk a good fight, but have not been acting like an avid reader for far too long. I have many books waiting in the TBR pile, longing silently for attention. My husband’s convinced I buy the dead tree kind just to fill up the house, earn the nickname “Book Hoarder,” and annoy him with […]
Blissfully doing nothing while on vacation. Living the dream! Just kidding: swimming, eating, walking, taking photos, drinking mai tais, making nose hats – that’s not “doing nothing” after all, is it?
I might be forgiven for moving it to a whole different island; after all, at nine, I was not in charge of transportation. I could drink it all in with my eyes; I wasn’t driving.
I am pleased and honored to help spread the word about Project Why, and specifically, the Project Why Women’s Centre at Madanpur Khadar, New Delhi (#ProjectWhyDelhi) A number of us bloggers learned about Project Why just a couple of years ago, through our friend Damyanti Biswas (@damyantiwrites). And now, we are helping raise much needed funds for […]
Any time you have a choice between tears and laughter, choose laughter. Crying only adds insult to injury by giving you a stuffy nose. Dear Constant Reader, has it really been weeks since we had coffee and a chat? At first, I found the emails vaguely insulting: No fewer than four friends forwarded, to me, […]
The kind of art I aspire to takes patience. Precision. The hardest part isn’t the sketching. And technique can be learned, practiced, and improved. But patience, particularly with myself, is not my greatest virtue. Tempus fugit. Reference Image
I like this one. It’s a peaceful image, isn’t it? I have been craving a swim in the ocean. Maybe not quite deep enough to encounter one of these immense creatures, but I envy this smiling fellow, just a little bit. Reference Image
Day 8. A star, eclipsed. I considered everything from a simple pentagram to a Hollywood star on a dirty sidewalk. But today’s prompt came on the heels of my first dip pen and assorted calligraphy nibs. I wanted to experiment a little with India ink, pens, water, a paintbrush, a shotglass… and that’s when this […]
Nothing sweeter than a toddler, exhausted from imaginative play, watched over by her beloved bunny while she sleeps. Reference images: https://www.babycenter.com/ims/2015/04/xiStock_10749141_wide.jpg.pagespeed.ic.DAjjMhB2AL.jpg https://www.google.com/shopping/product/16284815929933159048?lsf=seller:2770080,store:1590003140204069138&prds=oid:14605825836135765838&q=floppy+bunny+toy&hl=en&ei=2VO6W5aLPIOEtQX_wJb4Dg&lsft=gclid:Cj0KCQjw3ebdBRC1ARIsAD8U0V5uxfthACqgl4cao_xlODiHt2eDdHiq9E4D9QRuX_mRPwoUV423Z8EaAnpoEALw_wcB
When you’re fed up with the world, and with social media, but it’s still your “playground,” you have to do something. My “something” this month is #Inktober2018 (it is, to art, what NaNoWriMo is to writing). I don’t expect to rise, fully, to the 30 day challenge of #Inktober, nor do I expect too complete a NaNoWriMo […]
Books expose us to ideas that are not our own, not our friends’, not our neighbors’, not our teachers’ or our ministers’. We are free to see books as sympathetic friends or challenging adversaries. But let’s make sure we’re free to read them, and to make those choices for ourselves.
You could call this post “mental compost,” wherein I throw the mental scraps about reusing content, self-plagiarism, and even propaganda into one post, shake it up, and hope it will fertilize new ideas.
She had a primrose path, a little wooded section, and far to the back, a compost heap that she turned regularly with a pitchfork. It smelled of earth and death and life, and it made rich soil for her wildflowers. She taught us not to waste things, but we were kids and we forgot.