Snag Presence

March 10, 2018.  I spent February studying Zen poetry – reading many of the classics and writing to suggested prompts.  Lorraine “Bird” Mejia is a skilled online teacher and manages to pull things from me I did not expect.  True with the Zen writing, for sure.  But one of the exercises took me a bit off-prompt, smack dab back to the New Mexico mountain where we camp every August – specifically, back to the “snag” (a tree dead but standing, top broken off) where I sit in solitude.  I posted about that snag in 2015, and here I repeat that earlier poem followed by my “Zenish” perception.   One snag, two takes.

Who knows? There could be more snag poems to emerge …





Spring Bed

February 26, 2018.  A good friend has been holding the ashes of her cat Sally for a long, long time – unsure any of her places were long-term. That’s become clearer and clearer, and she asked if I had a place in our yard for Sally. Yes. And a place in my heart. A kinetic sculpture gifted by my friend at the time of her latest move marks the spot.  Although Sally never saw the sculpture, I sense her energy and that of my friend coming together.  It’s Spring, season for new flower beds. And a bed for Sally. The collage pulls the overall scene into a single frame. This post honors my friend, and Sally.




Winter Spotlight

February 16, 2018.   My affinity for digital collage is two-fold — for the freedom to make a moon as dominant in the image as in my mind’s eye, and for the meditative process of detailing, removing distractions to emphasize desired geometry — directed by whim.

A nod to recent posts from Michael Fiveson ( and Stephanie Harper ( – your words stirred mine.




Life Cycling

January 11, 2018.  It’s been a little over five years since I slipped my left wrist into the silicone band bearing the wisdom Celebrate What’s Right With The World – motto of Dewitt Jones, photographer and philosopher.   I’d just spent a week “on Molokai time” recalibrating with Dewitt and others.  I wondered how long the band might last. At least five years: the one I am retiring to my altar shows no wear until placed on top of a new one.  Then I can see it has thinned, which explains sometimes slipping off.

2012 held a pair of life-changing encounters.  A week with Mr. Poetic Medicine, John Fox, in Canyon De Chelly broke me open. Mother Nature delivered a Vision Quest where I’d anticipated just poetry and nature appreciation.   I came home wobbly, at best.  Within days, notice of a Dewitt Jones workshop on Molokai slid into view, and I signed up on the spot.  I was a fan of Dewitt’s philosophy from videos in wisdom classes.  With crossed  fingers, I began another adventure.  Getting to Molokai felt a lot like another Vision Quest, but the Island way and the people (once there!) were what I needed.  I will never forget returning, standing outside the Austin airport waiting to be picked up, unable to contain my smiles, eager to say THANK YOU! to the one picking me up (the one who put up with me after Canyon de Chelly!)





Bridging Solstice

December 21, 2017.  As this year moves closer to closure, usual seasonal mood swings squeeze into limited interior space crowded with national tensions, frustrations way beyond individual control and impossible to expel.   Thank you, Nature.  Your cycles remind “this, too, will pass”.   Optimistic fingers tightly crossed, I look toward 2018.




Garden Party

October 20, 2017.  An invitation we initiated in March has brought exactly what we hoped for – migrating Monarchs arrived this afternoon, four days after first blooms opened on the new blue mist bush.  We brought this home from Rancho Lomitas after watching Rio Grande butterflies congregating, making clear their preferred party food.  (Please don’t ask me the technical name. But do check out:

I stood in the midst of the flurry feeling invisible, a wallflower hanging around the buffet at an elite social event.  But no complaints!