Isabro seemed to embody the spirit of what used to be, bearing history and the generations, in his bones. He was of this place. He was ancient and he was a child. A force of nature.
simple living
The Miracle of Kathleen Ramsay, Part 2
I was there when she handed a rehabilitated Great Horned Owl back to the man who had saved it, ready to be set free into the forest where it was found. I was present for the release of three fat, healthy bears—overhearing a Game and Fish officer note with immense satisfaction that “Ramsay always releases fat bears.”
Sigh
I feel as though I’ve let out a breath—a breath I didn’t know I was holding. When had it started? When I was one, sixteen, thirty, sixty-four? I honestly don’t know, but it was deep and old, ancient perhaps. Mammalian?
Day Trip
The trip was filled with ghosts and they or the land, or both, gripped my soul on this sunny New Mexico day when Kim and I journeyed back in time and experienced the conceived utopia of another era and a sense of the lives lived within it, in old houses and on ancient land.
Be Kind to the Suffering
My life has been perfectly imagined into being, likely by the child I used to be, toddling on the beach with my Great-Grandma Casson, herself an artist—a painter and a songwriter. So I guess my wishes have come true, many of them. I just didn’t notice them when they did.
“Knitting With Nature’s Gifts”
Art. In all its forms, has the capacity to heal I continue to believe. Both by being in its presence and by making it. And all of us, as artists, must support the inspiration of others’ art whenever we can
Monhegan: Getting There
“A time to gain, a time to lose, A time to rend, a time to sew, A time for love, a time for hate, A time for peace, I swear it’s not too late.”