So, tears come easily perhaps. And the pain others put into story form, to allow others to see into their world, see what their challenges and struggles were, see what they rose up from, what brought them to their knees – I feel these things deeply. Continue reading Tears Cresting and Falling – Moved by Literature and Theatre
Driving straight into a thick blanket of fog, I wondered about our world, the darkness and lack of visibility we are entering. I remembered the blizzard in the Little House on the Prairie books that hit suddenly while children were at the school-house. They formed a line with outstretched arms – trying to get all the children home in a storm of wild whiteness. Only … Continue reading Microcosm & Minutiae
I have gotten out of the habit of writing, and my world is suffering. The walls start closing in on me when my creativity is on hiatus. When I am drawn like a moth to bad news, and the marching feet of the demise of our civilization, I sit stoop-shouldered and spineless and terrified – sucked into more and more bad news and my head … Continue reading Books will Save Us
It all started with Harold & the Purple Crayon. My youngest and I read the story together in front of a blazing fire and he said he wanted to have this book in his collection someday when he grows up and moves out. I told him he would need his own copy because there are some books I will always need to have on my … Continue reading The Stories of our Lives
“Long, long ago, in a village far away…” And so begins a story, that holds our attention all through dinner. Benjamin, my 8-year old, told a story that he’d heard at school, with such skill that I was on the edge of my seat, wide-eyed and crying at one point. Such heroism. Such love. He just waited patiently for me to stop blubbing and … Continue reading “We are all, Despite Ourselves, Drenched in Narrative”
