As I come to the completion of this draft of The Eyes of Addicts, I work hard not be overwhelmed with sadness… yet there is always light in the darkness.
Graduation Day in Snow, Colorado Springs, Colorado
The great benefit of an education in the humanities, now becoming a rarity, is its introduction via the Greek and Elizabethan playwrights to what they called “The tears in things.”
Remembering Will: March 3, 1970 – April 2017
Riding Amtrak’s Southwest Chief, the only train left that travels east and west across our country and down to New Orleans, I notice as we cross the desert in New Mexico the small forgotten places…
This Is the Hour of Lead
I think in fact there is no forgetting, but a different kind of remembering that goes on all the time in a deep, hidden layer…
Why I Believe
I have no other way to accept—or begin to accept—the tragedies over four generations that have engulfed my birth family.
Flashing on the Sixties
I am not an unequivocal admirer of that period, those people, and all that they caused—or helped to cause—to happen, in the early 1960’s and continuing to this day.
Reclaiming Our Flag
It is still my flag, and ours.
Dancing for the New Year
I’ll be dancing in the New Year—out with the old, in with the new, and hope springing eternal.
And It Does Go On
I am devoutly grateful for the lives of Will’s two older brothers who have mourned him with me and yet managed to go on.
The Mustard Seed
As a child, I planted seeds every spring and knew how likely it was that, when I forgot to water them, they would never spring from the dry earth.