Our garden helper, Phil, was here today, pruning the vine maples, the Japanese maples, the witch hazel, the redbud
Every Picture Tells A Story
I am not a natural with all this digital photography. I generally like/prefer/privilege physical media—paper books, LPs, CDs, DVDs, printed photographs. But hell, the damn iPhone camera is (even when it is not the latest version) an awesome tool and I use it regularly and widely to record my adventures rambling through the days called living this life…
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Some days are just dazzling…
And even the mottled, somewhat raggedy witch hazel leaves become a yellow luminescence against the afternoon and its celebration of sky-blue sky. A day to walk, observe, look up, celebrate the riot of color of the so many neighborhood shrubs and trees. A day to rake more fallen browning leaves, to sweep, to wait for the finches and bushtits to arrive for their before dinner dip
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Our 21st Century Victory Garden
The rains have pretty much arrived here in Western Oregon. And we are in the final stages of putting most of our 400-square foot plot at the Woodlawn Community Garden to bed. Oh, there will be stuff growing over the winter like always—…
Movie Review: Forty Years and Counting…
Went to see the A24 re-do of the 1983 Talking Heads concert movie Stop Making Sense matinee at the 1936 Kiggins Theatre in downtown Vancouver, Washington earlier today. I was twenty-seven years old when I first saw this Jonathan Demme film; my now middle-aged son was all of six years old…
It does take a village…
We held a neighborhood potluck party today. An utterly delightful (and delicious) afternoon of sharing food, conversation, and laughter. Memories and reminiscences since some of our neighbors have been on these blocks for over fifty! years! New friendships and connections. Lots of glasses raised
A Humble Curbside Memorial
I first stumbled on this small portrait of George Floyd in September 2020, after the upheavals of the Portland pandemic summer/protest summer. It sat by its lonesome on a curb in the Woodlawn neighborhood here in Northeast Portland, making a quiet statement (I thought) every time I walked past…
Here We Are in the Years…
A dear, dear friend from my long ago past life was found this week. What a gift that is! I, who pride myself on not losing touch with those I hold so near and dear lost this person, how, I don’t even recall. But now he’s found, thanks to a mutual pal who braved the vagaries of Facebook to connect with him. And already, after a mere 24 hours of e-mail back-and-forth, man oh man, there are some people you just pick up with where you left off…
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One-A-Day: Poetry as Creative Vitamin
Since last fall, maybe early November, I’ve been drafting (mostly) a poem a day with time off for Thanksgiving, a 60th birthday party, Christmas, and our recent delirious spate of February spring. I’d long meant to tackle such a project…
Keeping the Heart Open
I went to a writing weekend at Esalen in Big Sur, California back in October 2003. At the final session, all the attendees gathered together and we were all asked to reflect on these questions: What do I do to keep my heart open? How do I stay in touch with the source of compassion inside myself in these difficult times?…
