Everything I Touch Becomes Part of Me
Meet Betty. Betty is my sourdough starter. What’s unusual about Betty is not that I’ve given a name to a mere concoction of flour and...
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Blog
- Feb 1, 2019
Playing With Fire
In honour of the festival of Imbolc, which honours Brigid, the Celtic goddess of fire and the hearth. (Last year’s Imbolc post here.) I...
- Nov 30, 2018
The Call Of The Jay
The call of a blue jay never fails to transport her to that moment in time, instantly, to a moment so many years past that she’d actually...
- Feb 2, 2018
Silent Imbolc Eve
The last dying light of the day and the world is utterly still. A bubble of absolute silence within and underneath distant traffic noise....
- Jan 11, 2018
There’s A Light
She sat and sat and sat, silent to the point of aphasia — not so much that she couldn’t speak, more that she was so deep down the well of...
- Dec 14, 2017
Twilight Miasma
In the timeless twilight between sleep and waking, words are eaten alive, no rational thought escapes, life itself stands still, quietly...
- Sep 30, 2017
Three Meditations on Light on Water
1. FROM A WRITING RETREAT THIS SUMMER Shimmering like white starburst fireworks, sun on gentle waves. Air is still. Calm before the...
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