Standing in The Burn Pile
There is something about ashes and the remains of a fire in the woods that interests me. I am not exactly sure what it is, but the...
Finding What You Are Looking For
One of my granddaughters during last year's holiday open studio. I used to walk the beach often and look for sea glass. Somedays I would...
Walking Companions
Solid Ground There is one mile path in Southern Rhode Island where I love to walk as often as possible. At one point in the loop trail, I...
Hidden Art and The Joy of Relationship
(Hidden somewhere in Rhode Island) There are two art forms that have occupied my mind over the past few years . . . land art and nature...
Acknowledging The Longest Night
(paperwhite narcissus, white pine needles) It seems appropriate that I drove back from a week in Pennsylvania, my father's funeral, and...
Taking My Stories on a Walk
Places. Places hold stories. I find it fascinating that we often do or say things, on a what appears to be a whim, but turn out to reveal in
Allow Me To Introduce MySELF
Photograph by Anna Gallo I admit it. I have most likely caused a genealogical glitch for future generations researching my family tree. I...
There is a Purple Aster Growing in The Burn Pile.
Giving a Voice to Trauma
Places For Our Prayers
I have long been fascinated by the places people call Sacred. Places that are set aside for something. Places to bring and leave prayers....
The Extraordinary Ordinary
I am moving again. It is, if I am counting correctly, move number twenty-six. This time, I am excited to start an adventure in an urban...
