A Blog About Creativity
Thin places. There are sacred moments when the distance between heaven and earth narrows, and anything is possible. Skye arrives at college, determined to leave her past behind. But suddenly she sees the shadowy image of her mother on campus. … [Continue reading]
April 17, 1915. Exactly one hundred years ago this month, my grandmother boarded the SS St. Louis in New York harbor, along with 23 other Red Cross nurses. They were bound for L’Hopital de L’Ocean, a field hospital in La Panne, Belgium. World War I, … [Continue reading]
Tong ha ha. The sound of emptiness. Abby learned the expression teaching English in Bhutan. Like an empty pot that clangs with a dull thud. Or the empty space in her heart. Click here to read my short story, The Sound of Emptiness, in Packingtown … [Continue reading]
Antarctica The day we spent on the Gerlache Strait, Wilson's Storm Petrels teasing the waves. Fur seals, Chinstraps, Weddells. Icebergs the size of Belgium, reflecting Eerie blue light through weather-streaked portholes. Not a tree in sight, … [Continue reading]
It's a short ferry ride from mainland Chile to Chiloe Island. I lean over the railing to watch sea otters lounging in long strands of kelp, dolphin leap-frogging, pelicans skimming along a crest of surf. Snow-capped Osorno Volcano is visible … [Continue reading]
I live in a student neighborhood, so all sorts of abandoned items show up in my front yard. Windblown test papers, condom wrappers, unpaid utility bills. One time, a garbage bag filled to the brim with bottle caps was left next to my trash bin. Just … [Continue reading]
I lost my sunglasses somewhere between the Emerald Buddha and a trinket shop outside the grounds of the Grand Palace in Bangkok, Thailand. When I tell Gertrude, she immediately scowls. Is that the only thing you’ve lost? I can’t tell if she’s being … [Continue reading]
Gertrude’s right when she says the color of the swamp just ain’t natural. I hear the hint of a Southern drawl, slow and easy, as if she has all the time in the world. Her voice goes up at the end of the sentence, at first glance, making it seem like … [Continue reading]
Gertrude's lounging out in the backyard, plucking cherry tomatoes off the vine. She eats more than she brings inside. Any attempt to cajole her is pointless. Couldn’t you at least help with the weeding? Or pull out the lettuce plants that have gone … [Continue reading]
A friend in college, his name was Guy. He could lip-sync every song Jerry Garcia ever wrote, knew how to roll a perfectly manicured joint. Guy had long Rasta hair and a two-day-old scruffy beard; he thought pondering the unknowable out loud was sexy … [Continue reading]
