Last night I got an email from a lovely lady that I follow on Instagr.am. who had written to me regarding this blog post I had written a couple of months ago. As I replied to her, I realized I was finally getting out what I had been ruminating on for a few weeks. I asked her if she minded if I shared our exchange and she wrote back to say that she didn’t mind at all. So here it is:

I was just reading your blog and listening to “Twine”. When I started reading your post about Kicking the Fat Girl, I was utterly overwhelmed.  Even now as I write this, I’m fighting.  About a third of the way into it I thought, she’s inside my head, she’s writing about me.

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My four year old, Hawke, called me into the hall bathroom just now and said,

“Hey mom. I just cleaned the bathroom for you,” and he gestured towards the now soaking wet hand towel on the toilet lid.

“You did?! Oh, thanks buddy! I see you used the towel here. Okay. What all did you clean?” I was a little nervous but wasn’t about to show it.

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Cuba

April 25, 2013 — 20 Comments

Zack and I just arrived home from Cuba yesterday after spending a week there with Santa Fe Photographic Workshops. Zack was one of the leaders’ of a group of people who all obtained special visas to Cuba under the People to People Cultural Exchange program.

It was life changing.

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Figs

March 20, 2013 — 2 Comments

“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn’t quite make out.

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I left my counselor’s office yesterday feeling absolutely awful.

It wasn’t her fault. Dr. Sarah was lovely, as always. “We’ve got to help you learn to take better care of yourself,” she said at one point.

“All I want to do is sleep,” I replied.

“That sounds like depression.”

“Great.”

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Polly

January 16, 2013 — 20 Comments

For those of you who are interested in hearing the full version of my song, “Polly”, that Zack used in his short film “Signal & Noise”, you can download it by clicking here ——> Polly

The song is actually still a work in progress; what was recorded were merely ideas and rough sketches for a hopeful finished product. I started writing the song shortly after the death of my Grandmother, who passed away the day after Christmas this past year (2012). Her name was Vera, but was always called Polly, and I was mourning the fact that I did not get a chance to say goodbye before she died. Continue Reading…

IMG_9452“Writing is like driving at night in the fog. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.” E.L. Doctorow

Atelier Light

December 15, 2012 — Leave a comment
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The light that comes through my studio window is stunning. I am beyond grateful for this private creative space. So much peace here. Space. Peace. Speace. Perhaps I shall call it Speace Atelier.

In a little house, on some farmland just northwest of Atlanta, my brother Hounds are busy laying down new melodies. Happily, I get to be a part of it. I am pleased to literally lend my voice and time to such a talented group of friends.

Also, soon I will start the process of recording four more songs to bring this trilogy of EPs* project to a close. I use the word, “close” lightly though, as this process has been so much more of a beginning for me than I can properly convey.
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Damn it all. I’m really in for it now.
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