Love

The voice of my beloved!     Behold, he comes, leaping over the mountains,     bounding over the hills.  My beloved is like a gazelle     or a young stag. Behold, there he stands     behind our wall, gazing through the windows,     looking through the lattice.  My beloved speaks and says to me: “Arise, my love, my beautiful one,     and…

QUOTE: “. . . he is still your brother, and mine, in form and color accepted and approved by his Father, and yours, and mine, and bears equally with us the proudest inheritance of our race—the image of our Maker. Hold him then to be a Man.”William Seward

Old white men. The bane of revisionist historians’ existences. Yet take a look into the eyes of William Seward. He confessed to doing nothing without determining how it might affect his political career.We can take him at his word, I suppose, but I prefer to dig beneath his veneer of cynicism. William’s wealthy father owned…

Who Owns Time? The Writer Does.

Writers own time–temporarily. People own time temporarily and if you don’t believe in an after life then it makes perfect sense to speed on the highway and flip out after getting behind an old lady at the grocery store who only fishes for her checkbook at the very last minute. My parents made lists to…

Great Painting/Fun Writing Challenge

What a fun challenge from Jane Dougherty: “I’m posting a painting that I’ve used before to illustrate a poem, Odilon Redon’s Flower-Clouds, and I’m throwing it open to anyone who wants to have a go at writing a one or two sentence story to go with it.” I thought of my character BUCK CRENSHAW when…

Husband asks, “How was your day?”

Before you get all jealous because you didn’t get to spend your day living in a dead painter’s New York, let me explain that this wonderful vacation will probably come to an end soon. After raising five kids in a blended family situation, my husband and I are considering adoption. Yeah, we miss the emotional…