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]
On Healing the World in a High-Heeled Shoe
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]
On Lost Sunglasses and the Meaning of Life
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]
Savannah Landscape
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]
Weeds, Words, and a Hole-in-One
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]
Grand Canyon Swan Dive
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]
Fairbanks, Alaska
The sled driver is a stocky, high-octane woman in her twenties, already missing a few teeth. She’s untangling the webbed harnesses and judiciously selecting ten dogs to pull a sled for the tourists on a circuit around Beaver Pond. All one hundred … [Continue reading]
Travel: Stretching the Creative Canvas
Gertrude refuses to travel. I don’t blame her. The anxiety over missed connections. The expense. Squeezed into seats with total strangers. She’s a large woman, not terribly interested in sharing her space. And a germaphobe, with her packets of … [Continue reading]
The Art of Writing in the Rain
Gertrude’s rooting around in her massive faux-leather purse. Sitting in the front passenger seat, she hands me a broken windshield wiper, one of those back wipers that gets wrenched off in a drive-through carwash. It could have been from my car, but … [Continue reading]
The Not So Elusive Muse
Driving at top speed down a five-lane expressway, I glance in the rearview mirror. A semi is on my tail, the driver perched in his two-story cab. And there’s no room to pull over. Gertrude is cowering just out of view. I feel her clutching at my seat … [Continue reading]