Becoming Empty (life essay & live music)

Nature had a way of gently helping me with an emotional situation before I knew I needed help… I watched a mourning dove dart away from the top of our back porch pillar and return countless times over the course of several days. Each time he (that’s right) returned with a twig, string, or other …

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Hope Full (poem and dance)

Gifted with fabric and thread, she wasn’t just weaving material into museum-worthy displays, she was weaving a life transformed, stitched together with gold strands of hope, that she now wears like a majestic robe – wrapping her in the love, on others, she has generously bestowed. She is learning to step, to receive love and …

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Spirit of the Land

"Love Poem" by Leslie Marmon Silko Rain smell comes with the wind out of the southwest. Smell of sand dunes tall grass glistening in the rain. Warm raindrops that fall easy (this woman) The summer is born. Smell of her breathing new life small gray toads on damp sand. (this woman) whispering to dark wide …

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Winding, Writing, and Wildflowers

Escape the heat and the concrete, I did. Writing and exploring in the Cascades, I am. A rental car with a “Start” button and cool jazz playing on the radio, lifted me higher and higher, to a narrow winding road, lined with tall trees, providing sanctuary for birds of prey (and for me, a grounded …

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on Wet Concrete, don’t Step

Skin sweating she watched the tumbling and spinning stones, rocks, and cement lifting and crashing thunderous mixing Water spraying she watched the gray sludge become a substance strong enough to bind buildings callous enough to bury history, secrets, seeds, and bones Solid trapping heat and feet too slow to move when the giant mixer began …

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A Woman Never Tells

Oh, the lessons I could tell and the wisdom I could channel as I approach another birthday, making me all the wiser. Wisdom earned, not through deep regrets or extended bouts of brokenness, but mostly through persistence, purposeful direction, and a healthy dose of Divine intervention. Plenty of blood, sweat, and tears too. I could …

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a Writer’s reTreat (audio)

Enveloping clouds, across stretched miles – unseen landmarks and draped blue skies. Tired of staring into the smothering gray. Tired of straining to see what lies beyond a cloak that confuses night with day. She let her heavy lids end the seeking. She filled her lungs: slow, steady, and deep. Exhaling tangled tension and rooted …

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