Narration

I talk to myself. When I shop, cook, read, practice (sometimes), go for long walks—I imagine and comment often unconsciously, no matter who’s around. And I always write out loud…always. It’s not enough for me to see characters talk to each other on the page, express themselves through inner monologues, or confess their longings in … More Narration

When Words Fail

WHEN WORDS FAIL They are slippery, evasive, coy, dangling on our tongues, sometimes, yes, at the tip, and sometimes on an edge, not big enough to bite, or near enough to taste, resting on molars, or canines, before vanishing and reappearing in a flicker, chuckling. Once in a while, they are gremlins, gumming up the … More When Words Fail

The Plow

The thing about Griselda is she works when I do. If I’m off, she goes…elsewhere; but she’s always back when I’m at my desk, or making notes on paper assuming I’ll be able to read them later…which I won’t because…well, I’ll save that  for another time. *** I’ve been practicing Hatha Yoga for decades. Four … More The Plow