The season is a strange one, full of highs and lows, winter and spring all in a month. The ground thaws, freezes. The leap day approaches, and tonight, the moon is full. I watched the waves yesterday, renewed my passport, had a fun texting session with a dear friend, and then, hours later, I found myself in tears by noon. The kind of crying that leaves your eyes tired. The whole what am I do with this life before me, and is what I am doing in any way truly fulfilling?
A friend dropped by with a gift of a bright-colored beauty of a scarf. She returned to her studio to paint. I dubbed the scarf Happiness.
Lately I’ve been writing, and publishing, small essays. Some links:
A book review of The Parthenon Enigma by Joan Breton Connelly:
An essay on bullying, menopause, and finding voice on poet Jenna Shwartz’s The Roar Sessions:
A new draft of the novel is done, and handed in. The doubts emerge. I think already of newer revisions. I think of a new book, about a man growing grapes on a wall in the garden. His wife drifts by with shears in her hands.