I can hardly write this morning. Like a massive rotating hurricane, —gale force words on immigration surround the eye of this storm. Our newly elected president is the eye. The storm has yet to make landfall. It promises to be a big one, like the one that ripped up New Orleans a few years…
Tuesday morning, gray sky, warm and a light rain is falling. Feels like May in late February. Wish that I knew what this radical momentary departure from winter means. Perhaps it means nothing, portends nothing that is to come. After all, it’s weather and weather is change on a daily basis, forgettable. Or maybe…
Yesterday I was reminded of the fragility of language. Words are spontaneously used, transparent, selected for a purpose almost by reflex. As a man working on a motor instinctively reaches into his tool tray for the 3/8 inch socket because he “just knows” that’s the one that fits–so we chose our words, you and…
Yesterday a friend sent a link to The Atlantic article featuring the winners of the 2017 World Press Photo Contest. This photo rocked my world, –that is the world of connections, coherency, the lucidity that my mind has fashioned from my 67 years of life experience. The photo is of a female, holding a…
“If we live through this precarious moment, if his catastrophic instinct to retaliate doesn’t lead us to nuclear winter, we will have much to thank our current leader for. …He will have woken us up to how fragile freedom is. The whip of the executive, through a Twitter feed, can lash and intimidate, punish…
Another day, a weirdly warm fifty degrees, but the usual gray for February. Was reflecting upon a meeting with friends last night. I flashed back to the 60s where coffee shops were places for songs of resistance to a war, and for building alternative community. Our colonial forebears likewise met in the public houses…
Its Monday morning. The day after the Super Bowl, and feeling blue. There is good-natured banter between staff here at Starbucks. Awareness of the chatter, and the David Bowie lyric in the background, “We can be Hero’s for just one day…” is pulling my spirit toward the bright side. Certainly my funk is the…
I am delighted to offer a guest post from a friend, and a fine writer. The choice is perennial and ancient, and as contemporary as that offered to Neo in the Matrix movie, “You take the blue pill, the story ends. You wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe….
Tuesday morning and a cold rain is falling. Another day is before me. I have a short to-do list. Every item seems of life & death importance. And that,– is the problem. The daily news reports stories of the anti-Muslim travel ban affecting thousands of travelers world-wide, innocent, but denied entry to our country. …
There is a story that Czeslaw Milosz, on a return visit to his birthplace in Lithuania some 50 years after he had left, walked up to an oak tree and embraced it. An image of the return of the native, of course, but also an image of someone drawing strength – the psychic, moral…
