IsThisThingOn?

Yesterday was a BIG day.  I finally opened an air-tight box which contained my few, most prized journals, wrapped in acid free paper, stored for over a decade.  Ten years! I hadn't realized it had been that long. While there are many things of far greater monetary value, nothing compares to how precious these journals are to me. Their pages contain my raw experiences, captured in the moment, as I did the rare thing of living a long held dream -- a dream that ended up surpassing even my wildest hopes and imaginings: spending four weeks by myself in Paris, in an apartment I rented, just writing, reading, eating, observing, listening and walking at all hours, as I pleased.  Twenty five years later, I decided to finally turn those journals into something polished - for myself at least, to publish at best. It was a bucket list item for me as a writer - but in that highest category of things you must do to leave this world without regret. In 2013 took them with me when I rented a house o

As time becomes more precious to me, and as the news and state of the world seems more stressful and oppressive, I am trying to do what I can in my own world to free up time, space and energy for JOY. Lately,  I've  been on a mission to rid myself of clutter across the board. I'm  unsubscribing  from e-mail lists, deleting lots of old emails, clearing search engine bookmarks and my photos in iCloud, sorting piles of paperwork, clothing, housewares, and even sifting through outdated make up, medicines, and food I stockpiled during the pandemic.  Besides being in the stage of life where we turn to letting go, the tiny house craze and Marie Kondo certainly "sparked" a resurgence of minimalism and decluttering. Many are also trying to do their part for the planet by consuming less and recycling more - which includes repairing what they have, giving things away so others can use them and buying formerly loved items on Ebay, yard sales and at thrift stores instead of new. 

He put the cleaver down, having no more use for it. The body parts were separated now, spread out and ready to further dismantle. He had just an hour – maybe less -- to finish before the family returned.   Selecting a boning knife from his cache of tools, he skillfully whet the straight blade in rhythmic strokes, relishing the sound of steel against stone, then raised the knife slowly, worshipfully, until the edge caught a glint from the light overhead. He ran his finger over the edge to test it– being cautious not to slice his latex glove.    He hoisted the whole, bloodless leg to the table top, which he’d taken pains to meticulously cover with plastic. Though the limb had bled out, a transparent   string of goo caught hold of his apron, stretching out like a thread of spiders’ silk, which snapped once the leg landed.    He worked quickly now, blade flashing, deftly separating skin from fascia, pushing remnants of fat aside to afford him a solid grip on the muscles, now fully exposed.

It's the last week of October, better known as Preptober for those who participate in National Novel Writing month.  The point is to take four weeks in your life to actually make your writing a priority. Sounds dreamy doesn't it?  But how? Where? In WHAT time?  Most of us try to do everything we always do AND fit in writing 50K words. Somethings gotta give.  Here are practical tips for preparing to put your writing first in the month of November (and anytime after!).  Build in success by doing some or all of these: Declare Your Writing Space  Ah, a room of your own.. or maybe it's a corner or even a closet! Whatever it is, it helps to have a designated place that you can set up to be your Alter of Words.  Claim some bit of space, and make it one where you will be comfortable. First, work out your power source -- if it's not easily reached, add an extension cord two plugs for your computer/tablet and your phone. Now, add things that inspire you and/or are relevant to you

When I butter toast, I almost always think of John K, who once came to visit and put his buttered toast back in the machine for a little last heat. It came out sizzling and bubbly butter, chewy and delicious. While I don't always re-toast mine once buttered, I always think of him.  And I wonder if he realizes that such a tiny moment for all we've done together over the years would revisit me like that, so many a morning. My pal Colleen had me over for dinner when I lived in California. She was pregnant and making one of her super healthy dinners.... And while I'd made asparagus many times, she said, "Look, instead of cutting of the bottoms before steaming, you just run your thumb up the stalk until it snaps naturally."  In that moment I learned that the asparagus itself will let you know the point where the tough becomes tender.  Now I grow asparagus and as I snap them off from the ground, or take them from where I store them to cook, I think of Colleen -I can s

January 7, 2021  I woke up today feeling run over by a truck. This, just as I got some much needed rejuvenation over the holidays and was so hopeful yesterday. This morning, exhausted, groggy and dull, I scrolled through the headlines, emails, and FB, bombarded with calls to sign this petition, text these congress people. Each article spoke of impeachment or the 25th or even reasons why not doing those might be better in terms of Trumps ultimate consequences. There is still the worry that whatever happens to him, a fascist nation has been fully awakened, fueled by this horrible man Trump, who I remember very well from multiple personal interactions with him when I lived in NYC. Who knew that this vapid egoist ladies man robber baron who was just another New York character would become this? I do not hate... and am struggling with wanting to hate him for what he's grown into and done. But he could not do it unless others helped. Should I also hate the people who jumped aboard? Not