November 11, 2018
Our willow tree - what remains of it - has dropped a mighty branch into our back yard. It made a great, ripping sound and then returned to silence.
April 20, 2018
A pianist usually plays with ten fingers. By limiting John to just one, I invited in that which we normally try to keep out: awkwardness, tentativeness, not-knowing...
March 10, 2018
I once saw a political cartoon about a post-apocalyptic world. In it, a man is walking, carrying a portable TV, needing a socket. That’s how I felt after the election. Here's a poem that matched the moment.
In Which I Learn Something in Public (Learning in public is my definition of "performance")
April 12, 2019
I Am Like a Field Upon Which Nothing Will Grow
February 16, 2019
Fall the Way the Wind Blow
Weathered and Intimate
Expressive Arts (15)
The Palace Thieves Collective (1)
Classes & Workshops (3)