exploring life and love with pictures and words
Lying on my back, my book held arm’s length above my face, it shades my eyes from the bright sun. I read and sunbathe along the shore of the lake, soaking up these last days in Italy. Children splash and play in the water, while the grownups swim past them to the quieter, deeper water,... Continue Reading →
Wearing flip-flops, I walk slowly, slightly stooped, along the pebbled shore. I am careful to maintain my balance on the rocky water’s edge as I search for sea glass. Most are emerald green, some milky white, or clear. Wedged between the dark colored stones in crystal clear blue water, they are easy to spot. I... Continue Reading →
The weather has been beautiful in recent weeks, warm enough for shorts and summer dresses. I dig through a makeup bag searching for a second elastic band for my hair. Too lazy to search before today, I’ve been donning the single side pony tail, very 80’s. But I’m ready for pigtails. They look better. At... Continue Reading →
An early morning message had me misty eyed. One of my former bosses, colleague and friend, was perusing Instagram and stumbled upon one of my photos highlighting my Italian adventure, “Bittersweet” she wrote, after having just seen my name on the Resignation Report at the school board meeting. “We miss you Christine.” I felt the... Continue Reading →
Scrolling Instagram, I pause on a photograph, a couple whose world travels I follow. I skim the short summary of their current journey and a zillion hashtags. Two simple questions posed catch my eye, and then my thoughts. “What was the greatest risk you have taken so far? Was it worth it?” Without hesitation I... Continue Reading →
I sit shotgun as my cousin Moira zips down the tiny, narrow streets of Somana into Mandello. Windows down, the mountain air blows through the car. She taps her horn and waves to passing cars and neighbors who brave the walk. They shout Ciao, Buon Giorno! Their greetings trail off as we speed past. I... Continue Reading →
A small book on meditation, a list of handwritten recommendations from a private session with my yoga teacher, and a few cherished notes from friends are the small bits of inspiration I chose to bring along on this journey. I knew there would be times I would want to read them, refer to them, and... Continue Reading →
Tapping away on my keyboard, I reread phrases, type and delete words, and feel a range of emotions in the span of a few hours as I write. Sometimes my emotions are a reflection of the content itself. Other times they are conflicting expressions of belief and doubt in my ability as a writer. One... Continue Reading →
Scrittrice. . . The Italian word for a female writer, and extremely difficult to pronounce. Sometimes when I power walk along the canal I say it out loud, repeating the tongue twister slowly, trying to get the sounds exactly right. “Sono scrit-trice, Sono scrit-trice” I am a writer, I am a writer. Sylvia, the woman... Continue Reading →
It’s raining in Milan, gray and dreary. I wonder if the weather has anything to do with how I feel, missing home. I talked to my daughter this afternoon and learned it was raining there too. As we chat I can hear my eight month old granddaughter, Aria, babbling to herself and laughing. I smile... Continue Reading →
Bare Naked in Public 