There was a lovely woman in Kirkwall, on my honeymoon with Scott in Orkney. I have one photo of her, and I remember her name being “Barbara.” She wore a red beret, large brown clogs and sweatpants. Typical of the acquaintances we easily made, she was from California. She had wanted to live in Orkney for… Continue reading Timeless Orkney
[An excerpt from my memoir: The Parts that Felt Like Me - a Pilgrimoire (working title)] " This was 2010, when I’d met and stayed with Paul in the harbor town of Leith, Edinburgh. It had been a yummy holiday, and Paul had to get back to the business of weekend visitation of his children. Paul and I took… Continue reading Umber Geordie
Now that my heart is, at last, broken, I can tell you about him. On rainy days, I would think about my lover, and there was nothing but flight in my heart. I could conjure up the image, and I would begin to feel that I had life in my veins. I could think straight,… Continue reading Great Love Affairs
Peace from the Resistance Truly special places cause all the other tourists around you to melt away, and you are left alone with the place. Yet, there is nary a spot of Amsterdam that hasn’t been overturned like a fertile field over and over. You will certainly find the Begijnhof by looking at the tourist brochures. It is in… Continue reading Begijnhof
THE MAP AND THE TERRITORY Luckily, the Google people are about finished roaming every passable thoroughfare in the western world. By its industry, I’ve roamed such disparate lands as Belgian woodland (rumored to contain abandoned cars from WWII), Chinese riverbanks (until the roads ran out), French sea coast towns (where I’ll live someday), and what… Continue reading Mapping a Memory
Have you ever stood inside a cello?
Last night, I went with a friend to watch Maleficent again. It was at the 3 dollar movie theater, and I was pleased to take in the beautiful visuals once more. The first time I had seen it, I felt akin to the fairy with wings that Maleficent was before she was betrayed. I felt… Continue reading New Energy for Old Stories