I discovered Anne Morrow Lindbergh’s writing when I was 18.  Her Diaries and Letters from the years 1922-1945 were beginning to come out in print and I read all five volumes. (Bring Me a Unicorn, Hour of Gold Hour of Lead, Locked Rooms and Open Doors, The Flower and the Nettle, War Within and Without.)  Read the Rest…

Ballard is a Seattle neighborhood.  A former student of mine has a riff where she describes the two faces of Ballard:  There’s the old Scandinavian community, the fishing boats, brick houses, and the Nordic Heritage Museum.  And the new Ballard that sits at Cupcake Royale with their Macs, looking important and saying, “I am so  Read the Rest…

My book came out last Thursday on the full moon in Taurus, an auspicious day.   Taurean energy is both creative and possessive and my book, two and a half years in the writing, is all about me.   A memoir is not history.  I didn’t pretend to set out facts.  I wrote as I remembered but  Read the Rest…

Waiting.  I’ve never been good at it.   When I was a girl and Halloween fell on a school night, the school day lasted a week, no, a year.  Waiting for this book to be published is like waiting for that moment when I would step out the door in my gypsy costume (scarf tied backward  Read the Rest…

At a demonstration at Daniel Smith’s Artist Materials, I watched the watercolorist finish a painting in a 45 min demo.   Some cretin in the audience asked the price of her painting.  She said she would ask her full price, something like $300. “For a painting that took you 45 minutes?” he sneered. She was more  Read the Rest…

A year ago today I launched this web site.   Joan, my friend with the theological chops, had been telling me for years that I ought to consolidate all my mischief into one site.  She designed the first OK Chorale web site but she said her skills weren’t up to anything more complex.  Not wanting her  Read the Rest…