Personal
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Perception: Prosopagnosia
Last night I watched an episode of Perception which featured “. . . an interesting twist . . . a condition that makes him unable to recognize faces.” This is called prosopagnosia. I have a touch of this. When I was about twelve, I once passed my mother on the street without recognizing her. I got… Continue reading
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Learning to Live with the Wall
Thinking about my life for an art journal prompt, I realize – my life used to be full, challenging, in every way. Intellectually, emotionally, physically, aesthetically, spiritually – I pushed myself, I challenged myself, I moved, loved, lost, changed jobs, went into therapy, worked hard, read books, took classes, thought, looked at art,… Continue reading
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the man wants his blue pills
the man wants his blue pills for free, on demand he wants his fucks on demand, too he calls it health care the man wants his woman for free, on demand he wants her to carry the consequences on demand, for free and without complaint he calls it god-fearing the man wants… Continue reading
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Through Corridors of Light
Today I received an unexpected bit of solstice light in the mail: There are poets in here whom I love and admire: Emily Dickinson, Jane Kenyon, Theodore Roethke, Mary Oliver, Wendell Berry, Elizabeth Bishop – well, the list is long. And then there's me. My poem Fibromyalgia is the fourth in the book: … Continue reading
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Reunion
This is why I've been absent from online: my house was full of people, for a week. Friends from college came together, for the first time in more than twenty-five years, right here. We watched Up. I'm told I laughed. A lot. We went to The Garden of One Thousand Buddhas. We had lunch and art… Continue reading
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