Does your national identity influence you?

M.E. Walsh, in her Creativity Series interview, asked if my national identity influences me. As I’m in the middle of an interview now for NYC’s Brooklyn Rail magazine – in which we examine the contentious concepts of exile and liminality – it dawned on me that the idea of national identity is integral to this…

Sacré Coeur & Wound Man

Sacré Coeur & Wound Man (First published in The Cincinnati Review, Issue 15.1, 2017) A painting of the Virgin hangs at the foot of my bed. She wears her sacré coeur like a brooch, fastened with a sword through her chest. Mary’s sacred heart is crowned with flowers, just as gravestones are. I wish I…

Still Lifes in our Artists’ Loft

My treasures aren’t worth anything but mean the world to me. The paper-cut oak leaves were collected on a stroll up to the Basilica of San Miniato al Monte last year. I love cutting shapes into dried leaves – so ephemeral, they promise to rip and turn to mulch on the studio floor. I love…

Tattoo’ed Maps & Dragons – my Inspiration

My poem Mappa Mundi has been published by The Roanoke Review, The editors asked me to write a little bit about the inspiration behind this poem. Mappa Mundi was inspired by my passion for books of antique maps, some of them so large, I could step through them like doors into imaginary, naively drawn worlds. These…

The Weight of Prayer

I’m excited to announce that my poem The Weight of Prayer has been published by The Roanoke Review, a literary journal that was founded by a Pulitzer Prize winner and one of his students; a down-to-earth journal that publishes writers with no previous writing credits as well as well-known writers. The Roanoke Review editors asked…

My First Pilgrimage Was a Scavenger Hunt

My girls made the “please do not remove” note for me years ago when I was suffering from depression and couldn’t get out of bed. It’s one of my most treasured belongings, even though it’s just a ripped piece of paper. It was one of many that lined the streets – secret messages taped to the walls,…

Goldilocks on Pilgrimage

Securing a bed each night on my pilgrimage is an ordeal and a blessing. For a faithless pilgrim such as myself, leaving my bed to fate or luck or chance or serendipity or street smarts or the kindness of strangers is a strange show of faith. 

petals and sugar water

This little guy has been with us all winter. Butterflies always land on me and stay with me like pets. I wonder if there’s a name for this? Do I have a particular taste, maybe like banana or sugar water? I glide around the house in slow motion to make sure I don’t harm it, like Tai…

let’s go home and cuddle

Cuddling is our favorite pastime. Our ritual, our retreat, tangle of tears, nude knot; our hibernation, hiding place, our fort, our place of worship and horseplay. Our rest and resuscitation. After the year we’ve had, cuddles are necessary as medicine and manna. The cuddle is our mother. It is home. “Let’s go home and cuddle,”…

my writing sanctuary

I’ve loved this Mary picture since I found it in Germany years ago in an old shop. I’m not religious but her face is so benevolent. Her presence calms me. I’m also compelled by the idea of a sword through the heart, crowned with flowers like a grave stone. I like to think we can…