My house is sleeping. I have on my favorite headphones and Ray LaMontagne is singing about trouble and wild horses, being saved and asking how come. I’m thinking back on the week and trying to figure out how to put it into categories and alphabetized files. There are so many things I can’t write about...
I saw this photo from [b]ecker today and it makes me want to go to Antigua where this sign lives…or at least print a poster for my office.
I’m looking under rocks. Taking books off of the shelf. Searching everywhere for inspiration – for anything uplfiting. Everyone seems so depressed. Is it the economy? Are we all just sick of political commercials? Here’s a lighthouse or two making me think about all of the things about life that are beautiful and worth celebrating.-Everything...
When I was at The College 700 miles away, one of my professors, Dr. Simon Lewis (one of the greatest teachers of all time) assigned Susan Bordo’s The Slender Body to help explain why a protagonist’s anorexia was a reaction to oppression around her. (I think the book was Tsitsi Dangarembga’s Nervous Conditons). Even though...
Like the Travelocity Gnome, the daddy from my daughter’s Fisher Price doll house travels around a lot. We find him in every room of the house at different times of the day. I wonder what he thinks about these little positions she leaves him in and where we will find him next. I’ll keep you...
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I have so much to learn about photoshop. I have been watching some helpful tutorials online. This one takes the cake. Enjoy. Some language may not be work appropriate.
-I’ve started writing several posts for this blog in one sitting and scheduling the publish dates so that there should be new material even on days when I’m away for work. Plus, it is such a gift when I check bloglines and see that I have a new post that I’ve forgotten about. A little...
I decided to try this challenge, at least for one day. In essence, the challenge is to capture the everyday routine, even the mundane and in the process discover the beauty of the present moment. It suggests to, “document the imperfect normalness of your existence.”Here goes… Waking up in stages. Leaving the bakery after the...
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