Tuesday, May 27, 2014


Working, 2014

Yesterday evening someone else sat in my chair at my desk.  I sat on the other side, in a rarely used chair meant for guests. We worked, argued a little, pouted, listened to birds and wind, watched shadows dance, accomplished some important tasks, and then quietly walked amongst the eucalyptus trees in the dark.

Monday, May 19, 2014

you get what you pay for

Still Going, 2014


We paid $5 for these garlic scapes. We ate the bottoms and put these tops in a Mason jar over three weeks ago.

you get what you pay for (according to Wiktionary)

Monday, May 5, 2014

I've written a novel.

Proof Copy, 2014

After the Sour Lemon Moon will be available June 15, 2014.

McNally Jackson Books will have copies on their website and in their store on Prince Street in Manhattan.

Thursday, May 1, 2014

The Space Between

tiny flower, 2014

I remember her telling me I must spend time alone each year. Not an hour or a day, but a week, or even two. It was, she told me, essential to my remaining whole, and not losing myself in a relationship. A creative person must remain an individual. She had, and believed it improved her sense of self, her relationships, and her work.

She was my tutorial instructor one semester during my MFA program. We often ended up discussing life more than work in these one-on-one courses. When making art is the work, separating work from life is difficult. One becomes the other and vice versa. So she instructed me in living an artist's life, although I believe she thought any person, man or woman, artist or not, should live this way.

When she traveled, she took the long way. She avoided airplanes and liked to drive instead, feeling every curve and bump she traversed, watching the landscape change, rolling down the windows and feeling the weather shift.

She wanted to feel the space between home and where she was going. She took the distance seriously. She believed in this ritual wholeheartedly. It was how she cleared her mind and made space for the new.