Hanging out in a liminal space

I have a feeling of being in transition, of being in between the not anymore and the not yet. I've been chewing on it ever since I saw my dear friend incarcerated in his body from a stroke, and struggling in a nursing home. The push onto the threshold is also because this is my…

The pettiness of the long-distance writer…

Oh, I'm so fed up. With myself, with my not-writing, with this foolishness that I assign myself only to fail. I find myself avoiding reading reviews of new books because the bitterness of "I shoulda been a " is so strong, though I know full well I don't have the stick-to-itiveness to finish my writing…

Felting rocks and writing faith

A little break from countries today. The sun is shining bright against a bank of threatening grey clouds and that always puts me in a thoughtful mood. Plus I've been making things for Christmas. Felted things. There's something about changing the form of matter that appeals to me. Pottery, where you take mud and create…