Monday, August 1, 2016


The air is pure silk this morning. Last night’s storm left in it’s wake a gentle breeze, clarity of sight and sound, sharp relief. I can hear the most minute sounds; see the edges and contrasts of every existence. The leaves in the trees are barely whispering as they sway with the grass. The birdsong is content and happy. There is a definite celebration taking place here in this sanctuary. Where did the people go? The humidity? The anxious feelings? Grateful to be sitting here amidst this quietude alone, but hardly so.
 --Villa des Amis/August 1, 2016

Tuesday, July 5, 2016


              Villa des Amis

Taking a walk in the garden can be a revelatory act. 
Or not. 
It depends on my state of mind, awareness, openness, curiosity. It saddens me to see how incurious I can be, moving through a space lost in my own story, thoughts, the next sentence, eager to add something while all around is being lost: the church bells, birdsong, the dying rose bloom, an aunt colony, my own breath, how that arbor is shading the hostas now that the winter months are gone, or that the leaves will fall like ripe fruit as the warmth of the days retreat in favor of another season, the wonderment of how many more seasons I have to appreciate the impermanence that surrounds me, while having a desire that this day last in the face of so much evidence it won’t. Look, there’s a blade of grass leaning in the opposite direction from its neighbors. 

Friday, May 20, 2016


LPC 2002

       There are drawings that manifest 
       education and there are drawings 
                  that manifest love.