exploring life and love with pictures and words
I was sitting on the patio, enjoying the company of friends, my hands wildly emphasizing my words. I don’t remember what I was saying, only that I had just finished my sentence when I glanced toward the sidewalk and caught his eye. He quickly looked away, spooned ice cream into his mouth, and walked on... Continue Reading →
Last week I recorded my audiobook. I read my memoir from beginning to end, while the talented Mary Catherine listened carefully to every word. She caught the ones I swallowed, skipped or mispronounced. If my voice was too loud, or too soft, or if my intonation was wrong, she coached me until I got it... Continue Reading →
The recent passing of a friend, and then a friend’s mother, had me revisiting loss and my relationship with grief. I am always surprised by its low blow, its unfairness. I had hoped that life experience would build a protective armor around my heart. I’d be stronger; I wouldn’t cry so easily; I’d be less... Continue Reading →
When you are loved by a writer eventually, she is going to write about you. It could be in a book or a blog post, or a journal entry in a tattered notebook. I’m guilty of doing all three. I have even typed notes into my phone, capturing a moment before it slips from my... Continue Reading →
My grandson Luca sings along to Twenty One Pilots’ Stressed Out as I drive. I pick him up after school every Tuesday, giving his mom a break from the south county--north county roundtrip commute. Living with his dad half time in Huntington Beach, Luca has attended school here since he was a little guy in... Continue Reading →
Somewhere between sleep and waking, I float in the periphery of a sweet dream. I want to stay here soaking up its warm light, but the image fades, and peace slips away. A familiar ache creeps into my subconscious and I reluctantly recall the reason for the void I feel. I miss someone. I’m surprised... Continue Reading →
Late Sunday morning, still in pajamas, I sit cross-legged on the sofa, looking through a dusty storage box for a photograph of my mom. I don’t have a specific one in mind, it’s more of a treasure hunt. I hope to find a photo I haven’t seen in so many years that it feels brand... Continue Reading →
Bedding and sheets lay neatly folded in cardboard boxes in the corner of the guest room. Gigantic plastic bags stuffed full with new pillows are piled high on the corner chair. Two suitcases packed with the only clothes I own, and a single chair I purchased on sale a few weeks ago are ready for... Continue Reading →
Unable to sleep, I lay awake and think about him. I don’t want to, but I do. Instead of letting those thoughts float away, I cling to them and imagine his life with her . . . yuck. I pull my laptop from my nightstand and write these words, ”Just when I think I am... Continue Reading →
Tap, tap, tapping away on my keyboard, reading and rereading chapters, my eyes burn. I understand now why other writers have said that editing a story is sometimes harder than the initial writing. This has been the case with my memoir. Having never written a book I had zero expectations about the process other than... Continue Reading →
Bare Naked in Public 