Archive | June 2014

Home – This Is The Plan…

It sounds like a great idea...

It sounds like a great idea…

I’m going home–to clarify, the home I lived in most of my life as a child. I have owned it since my Mom died and always intended to use it as a retreat. Life got in the way.

Now I return to start the process of cleaning it out and getting ready to list it. Ghastly prospects looms as this task is daunting. But this week, I will let you in on a secret. I’m going to write there.  Cleaning will have to wait.

Oh sure, I will pretend to be going through things, but, and this is just between you and me, I’m going to work on existing projects and finalize them. By next week this time I will have:

  • a poetry how-to book,
  • a chapter from a memoir that just may save your life,
  • a vignette from a novella that will make you cry,
  • and 8 poems completed for a sketchbook project due in August–Love Motion No. 5.

Or maybe not…

Stay tuned…



Happiness is…

… hang tags.  Of late, my obsession with them runs somewhat amuck. I use them all the time as note cards, as quote reminders, as art. Yes, they are now part of my collage work.

Musical metaphor

Musical metaphor

If you’re looking for a convenient way to catch fleeting fragments, why not grab a handful and stick them in your pockets or purses?  Today, I noticed these lying on a sketch I’ve been working on. The simplicity caught my attention. The fragment is from an older journal entry and was inspired by a poem by Tony Hoagland – ‘How It Adds Up.”  


In Hoagland’s poem…

Happiness, Joe says, is a wild red flower
plucked from a river of lava
and held aloft on a tightrope
strung between two scrawny trees
above a canyon
in a manic-depressive windstorm.

My poem, devoid of such vivid imagery, leans towards a musical metaphor…more towards the reality of those invisible intangibles that may or may not be real.

Happiness is a past summer’s day
The shadow of a wren dances amidst the frets of twigs
Accompanies the far-off lilt of an owl — relentless insistence–
Who. Who. Who?
To which I–reading scrambled scripted notes–
Chant the chorus… Adagio…always in adagio…
Why?    Why…   Why

As you can see, I ‘m editing this even as I write this post. The process of revision relentless as your vision becomes clearer with each subtle change.

Your mission…should you choose to accept it… Pick up pen, write me a fragment. Hang tags of the world — UNITE!