Ink. I love the way it feels. I love the way it stains. Ink in different forms changes the way I write. When it’s super liquidy I write messy, but my thoughts can come quickly. When ink is sticky — ball point — my handwriting is nicer, but thoughts are slower. I wonder how that … Continue reading Ink
Marine blue. A wash of green. Navy at depth. Pacific blue off Kauai. Turquoise in Bahamian shallows, where tropical sun penetrates aquamarine. White sand below. Ocean with galaxies of starfish, shivers of sharks, smacks of jellyfish. With animals as big as houses. With beings who are our kin, warm-blooded, intelligent, playful, zen. I had a … Continue reading Ocean
Hay bales are my lily pads. I watch the light on them when I run: the angle, the strength, the warmth. Depending on the time of day, the season of year, the color of the sky, the life on the ground, the hay bales look different every day. Growing up, I made the drive from … Continue reading Hay Bales
