Below on the left is an image that caught my eye, and as happens often, it made me think of the story behind it. Was it an accident? A suicide? And then I realized—with her outstretched arms, hair whipping over her eyes—she looks like a lost and falling angel. What could cause her to fall? […]
Are you a lucky little lady in the City of Light? Or just another lost angel… City of Night…” —Jim Morrison She had misjudged when they would take her wings; punishment for her questions, her doubts. For her the fall was real. Pain. She knew that was what they—humans—called it. But had never felt […]
Hell—and Hurricanes—Hath No Fury Like a Woman… Overhead, the wild huntsman of the storm passed in one blare of mingled noises; screaming wind, straining timber, lashing rope’s end, pounding block and bursting sea contributed; and I could have thought there was another, a more piercing, a more human note, that dominated all, like the wailing […]
With thanks to Dan Caldwell; something we talked about inspired this story. He slowed the rocker when he heard the steps come out onto the wooden-floored porch. His eyesight was failing, but hearing was still sharp as ever. Those boards—how they sounded when trod on—told him it was his great-grandchildren. “Alice… and Jimmy, you came to […]
The man sat on the patio chair and watched Petunia play with her string of beads large and small. She’d grab them and run across the yard, look back at him to make sure he was watching, then take off again… a pale pink streak with them streaming behind her like an optimistic kite tail […]
A little warm-up writing (draft) from this morning’s coffee… (spurred by this image and a ‘mock’ cover I created that could one day be a real story). Spring had died, drowned by the climbing mercury in the giant thermometer on the brick wall of Tilson’s bar she could see by day in rising and fading […]
On those evenings, the backyard would become thick with fireflies; a dozen and more points of light. I’d sit on the steps and watch the little gold sparks wink in and out of the shorter grass close to the house as they moved towards the tall grass further back.
With a sigh she didn’t realize had come from her… she stooped to fill her jug.
I think many people (at least I know I do) get the most enjoyment and value out of things that are more than one layer deep. It could be the richness of a color (like you could dip your finger in it), the texture of a fine wood and look and feel of its grain, the savor of the food or drink, the subtleties and nuances of a well-written book, well-scripted/written movie or TV show, the joy of an intelligent discussion/conversation. It’s the same for me when it comes to the quality of interaction with another person and clients and I very much appreciate the quality of the person I work with and hope to know and work with them for a long time to come.
Sometimes creation is spurred by a plan, a predetermined action. I’ve found it’s also triggered often by something random. A sound, smell… a picture or image… sometimes a place or setting. All of them have an effect. Music is intense for me. It, sometimes a specific song, transports me into a vivid memory. Songs figure […]