Shortly after I finished writing, the internet returned. Our isolation was short-lived, and of course, for its very brevity, cherished. Candle reflections this morning.
The Darkness
Contemplating a November Writing Goal
When has life ever been so busy? Fall semester is always the hardest here--major assessments in most subjects, a full-on calendar of events, letters of recommendation to write, lessons to keep planning. This year, changes in school procedures, a round of oral exams, hybrid lessons for students still off-campus or those feeling ill, and a... Continue Reading →
Summer Raku: Working with the Elements
My husband and I took the money we would have spent on a trip back to the US this summer and bought a Raku kiln for our ongoing ceramics adventure. After more than a month's wait, the kit arrived finally in late July, and my husband spent a whole day (until about 11:00pm) working through... Continue Reading →
Do writers really need a purpose?
This summer and fall, my reading list has been conscripted. I inherited two literature classes from a colleague, and in short order I had a list of thirteen books to be prepared to teach, about half of which I had read before, about half of which were new. Among them were a few wonderful new... Continue Reading →
Nothing Human is Alien to Me
I woke Saturday morning to the news that Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg had died. Oh no. Oh, oh no. Not now. I closed Facebook and that flood of posts. I opened it again. Channel grief into action, I read. I looked away. I have these elder heroes, people of those earlier generations whom I've imagined... Continue Reading →
Parable of the Earth’s Crust
“Parable of the Earth’s Crust” might read like a metaphor, but I don’t think it’s one. We are forever our own frames of reference, laying the world out before us in bald human terms. In this short piece, let's try to turn that on its head. There it is again. Turning something on its head.... Continue Reading →
Finding time to write
Work went from zero to one hundred more abruptly that it ever has. Two weeks ago, that last easy week of summer, I wrote an hour each day, completed consistent thirty-minute workouts, weekly video-calls with family and friends, eight hours of sleep each night. Two weeks, and I feel already wrung dry. Although they're all... Continue Reading →
The Story Journey
I'm starting to think that anything can be a story. My husband tells me about his job search after college. What a story! I am eating chicken surrounded by forty of the loudest teenagers on the planet. Story! It keeps raining and the pumpkin plant keeps blooming all the same. Story. Quarantined students are roaming... Continue Reading →
Writing and Mental Health
I get wrapped up in my own head sometimes. I twist around my thoughts. Despairing at the world or spinning in moot worries, few things can pull me out of looping thoughts effectively as writing. Writing helps us process our emotions. It is a way to get outside oneself, as it is paradoxically too the... Continue Reading →
Glaciers, Mountains, and the Virus
In the rush through of this so different summer, at last the rain has broken. Three days of sun erupted miraculously into the forecast, and in a fevered burst we made our travel plans. Covid-19 seems to be controlled in Norway. The country mostly reopened in mid-May, and new case numbers have held low at... Continue Reading →
Jimmy Kindree 