Exactly what might I say in response to the question, “What’s my line?” Today I am a writer using a line of text to convey an idea, and a digital line to express another point of view. Yesterday as a designer I used ruled lines, my quarter inch scale, and drafting board to produce floor plans…
My memory of childhood has little to do with black and white Kodak moments printed on glossy photographic paper. Those images, framed in white deckle, are family memories. They are copies of the updates shared with grandparents, aunts, uncles and old friends. Mother sent them off enclosed with her cards and letters keeping everyone up…
It is early on a Sunday morning of what promises to be another hot summer day. The windows are open and the soft sounds of birds going about their birdy business create a haze of contentment. Normally I would be reading the paper and getting a grip on the outside world, but the paper guy…
Well, I managed to splatter myself face first on a perfectly benign sidewalk. And contrary to popular belief, my life did not flash before my eyes. It was nevertheless, quite a spectacular fall. Due to extenuating circumstances, it is beyond my capacity to relate the entire sequence of events leading up to my pratfall in…
Stand Back from the shamrock. It is loaded for bear and aimed at bad luck. I may not be Irish, and green may not be my best color, but I am still in luck. I say this in all seriousness because over the past few weeks I have averted any number of bad news events…
I have recently struck up an acquaintance with the Flavonoids … Big Daddy Kale, Momma Parsley, Uncle Edamame, Cousin Red Cabbage, Baby Berries, and all the rest. They are an odd bunch, the Flavonoids. As a family, aside from the name, they are mostly boring as hell. But I have to say I respect them…
My mother loved to say, “She has a loose coupling in her train of thought!” Mother felt it was such a clever way to forgive someone their rudeness, and would use it when describing the behavior of those who took it upon themselves to annoy her by interrupting and changing the subject. This was usually…
Ghostly images appear before me as I walk. The sidewalk is imprinted with silhouettes of fallen leaves … like small hands waving goodbye. … each one a reminder of the times we shared, and the blessing of living each day amidst such beauty. With every season Mother Nature, so gracious and forgiving, shares her leaves…
It was time once again for my tires to be checked and rotated. So I wended my way through the massive road-works and decrepit pavements of Bristol hoping that Bedding Barn had not gone out of business, as Tire Depot lies behind it, and the only signage is a small sandwich board on route six,…
Oy gevalt! Please save me from my fantasy life. Much as I might wish it to be possible, there really is no way I shall ever be mistaken for a sophisticated world traveler sitting at ease in a sidewalk café in Firenze conversing in fluent Italian with passers-by. For one thing, I shall never again…