Stealing from “Steal Like An Artist”

Stealing from “Steal Like An Artist”

I run because I don’t have it all figured out. Because sometimes, despite how much I’ve learned, my sense of purpose seems like a moving point hidden in killer fog (sometimes, it’s the whole damn fog bank). I run because when I do, my lungs demand to...
A Human Hibernation

A Human Hibernation

“Write a  blog post!” my friend Mike emailed me recently, a smiley face emphasis at the end of the sentence.  Mike is a sunny guy who started following me years ago and now I’m friendly with his whole family. Lovely folks. I’d like to make Mike...
Sign Language

Sign Language

I haven’t been blogging much lately because I don’t really have that much to say.  Life is stable.  No drama.  No travels for the moment.  No one entering my life or leaving it.  Most days, my mom’s spirit sits quietly on my shoulders–my...
A Spanish Small Town Story

A Spanish Small Town Story

The Renault broke down on a bright blue day undisturbed by the infamous Levante wind that sweeps through Southern Spain on a regular, allergy-provoking basis.  The headlights still worked but it wouldn’t even turn over, stranding us on a stretch of road baking...