Do Da Da Do Do DO DO – Yeah!

July 15, 2019.Reading time 2 minutes.

life is so groovy! dance, dance, dance! and love, love, love!

turning doubt around ~ Day 99 of 108 American Sentence

July 12, 2019.Reading time 2 minutes.

I am free to do all the I want to do! Wow!

love letter to America ~American Sentence Day 97 of 108

July 2, 2019.Reading time less than 1 minute.

“…There was a big high wall there that tried to stop me
Sign was painted, it said private property
But on the back side it didn’t say nothing
This land was made for you and me…”

~ Woodie Guthrie

Early Morning Fire ~ American Sentence Day 94 of 108

June 14, 2019.Reading time less than 1 minute.

I drift between wakefulness and sleep from around 3 to 4 am until about 5:30 – I fall back to sleep until 6, when my alarm goes off. It’s better when I surrender – maybe take a cool shower and then, drift in and out of sleep, thinking of dreams,
and noticing.

What my ex-husband told me – American Sentence Day 92 of 108

June 11, 2019.Reading time 6 minutes.

I firmly believe that fun is essential for our survival and evolution!

Run away from anyone who poo-poos fun. Most definitely run away from anyone who shames you!

Backworld slipping is not an option

May 12, 2019.Reading time 6 minutes.

“Creativity ignited a spark. In that moment, I saw that art is not peripheral, beauty is not optional, but a strategy for survival.” – Terry Tempest Williams

I walked away a long time ago so that I could find out who I am.

drops in the collective making waves and changing lives

May 11, 2019.Reading time 4 minutes.

Sometimes amazing things happen when you follow your heart. Even actions that seem small have ripple effects.

Sea Turtle in rehabilitation pool. Photo: Paul Perreault.

Prostrate Undulation ~ American Sentence 89 of 108

April 23, 2019.Reading time 1 minute.

Frederica Hall, a local artist, created this drawing, I love her play with color. She said she felt like I was in a cosmic egg. I’m curious to see how she will finish.

So much filling a room

April 20, 2019.Reading time 1 minute.

We moved to a small room in an annex to the Poetry Project at St. Mark’s Church. Nada Gordon was teaching – I think we were free-writing, getting warmed up.

My marriage was a disaster and I did’t necessarily feel like feeling anything – so I focused on the room and the sounds and the imagery and the energy of nervous writers filling the space. I put a lot of pressure on writing to take the place of music.

I’m guessing this happened in 2004.