Blog

Many places have become my home, and when I return there is the satisfaction of completing what has been meant for me.

If I could speak to the Moon, I think my tongue would be a wave. Upon her gentle touch, my fingertips would scatter into stars, and in her white glow, we'd smile.

3pm is the Limbo of the daily hours.

I hope you will enjoy this recipe for a Home, which combines inner space, neighbourly community, and love, with a dash of color.

About moving in with love.

A hommage to my favorite song by Billy Joel

I now observe, with my growing age, patterns in my life. Years go by in flashes of soft white; between snow and sand.

A short essay pulled from Virginia Woolf's madness and my own influenza