Tumbling Down the Rabbit Hole…

Tonight I was looking for an essay of mine that was published in Cutbank last year, and all these hits came up… I’m so pleased to find so many quotes of my work that have been posted and reposted on Tumblr and various blogs, etc. All night I’ve tumbled into the Tumblrsphere. For instance, a…

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…

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. 

Home-Grown Love Letter

In my Oxfordshire garden in 2012 I spelled out my name and my lover’s name with dandelion leaf, pods, seeds, sweet pea tendrils, and anemone. The neighbor’s horse on the other side of the wall nuzzled me and searched my pockets for fruit as I arranged my foraged love letter. The horse, the wind, and…

in search of lost time

I prefer not to be governed by anything that outpaces my pulse. The ticking above my wrist would confuse my blood – which is my true heart?  My life is slow and gentle – somnolent. There is time to look, and feel, and dream. It’s not a luxury, it’s a choice. We choose our taskmasters….

novice badassery

My daughter Akychame and I went on a great bike ride yesterday – almost 15 miles – we started at Blenheim Palace in Woodstock, where Sean dropped us off, and arrived (almost) in Chipping Norton feeling on top of the world, having sliced Oxford into Ox and -ford with our brute pedaling. You can see…

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,”…

little clouds and blind spots

I love Sean’s portraits of self-portraits – he dissolves into a fairy tale, a Little Prince, a Pierrot. He becomes his truest self twice over. When I paint my face I create a self-portrait on the most immediate canvas. The mirror provides me with a portrait, then I paint a self-portrait on its reflection until…