Boston area reading today!

I'm excited to do a reading this afternoon (Sunday, September 25) at 4pm in the Barnes & Noble, Burlington, MA. If you're in the area, I'd love to see you...

poetry wednesday : when you come to love, bring all you have.

When You Come to Love by Ann Fisher-Wirth When you come to love,bring all you have. Bring the milk in the jug,the checked cloth on the table—the conch that sang the seawhen you were small,and your moonstone rings,your dream of wolves,your woven bracelets. For the key to love is in the fire’s nest,and the riddle of love is the hawk’s dropped feather. Bring every bowl and ewer,every cup and chalice, jar,for love will fill them all- And, dazzled with the day,fold the sunlight in your sheets,fold the smell of salt and leaves,of summer, sweat, and roses,to shake them out when you need them most, For love is strong as death.? [image from...

mindful monday : clean clementine lines

There are three rooms left to do, to clear out, to declutter and make spacious-er. And the attic. And the basement. Oh at the stuff. Some of it is boxes of papers I will never use again. I don't need them. I don't want them. Some of it is mementos. I don't need them. I want them. And then some things I feel I need and I want. Sorting. Making photos of precious things I don't need to physically have anymore, but want a piece of, even if in the form of a photograph. My attic office needs making: white, turquoise, clementine. Repainting something to resemble this simple orange desk. Lots of light. A space now filled with boxes and dark. We throw too much away. Plastic bags full of stuff, of food, of paper. To sit in a landfill somewhere. That's because we buy too much in packages and we don't compost and we print things that don't need to be printed. We don't reuse what we could. I'm committed to changing that. Here are some helpful hints on reducing waste to which I'll be paying close attention. And it's "No Impact Week." What better time to commit to reducing your impact on the environment? How about we do a better job of asking and giving and reusing? This little house on a shoestring is such a beautiful example of that. I want to learn how to build things. Part of my impulse toward simplicity and spaciousness is to create an internal spaciousnes as well, one that is hard to do when smothered from the outside in. I...

thinking thursday.

[this is me pretending to be a news anchor. I am being thoughtful by finger acting] [mind]  Why fracking is no fracking good. I am intrigued by the Big History Project.  Is addiction in the head? [body] I'm definitely going to try this oatmeal recipe. Oh, Hugh Laurie, we love your crankiness. And your music. [soul] I love these women. My favorite quote of the week: Every conflict is fought in self-defense. So when you're having a disagreement, ask yourself what you're defending. -Karen Maezen...

poetry wednesday : september’s lovely in new york.

Advisory by George Bradley for Jim Kehoe September’s lovely in New York, the sky Returned to baby blue, the breeze now mild As breath, and if you’ve anything at all Important planned, now’s when to do it: fall In love, begin a book, beget a child, Marry, get religion, learn to fly. September’s stunning, even on so odd An island as Manhattan, of all places Least like landscape: climate cannot bungle This month without a more than urban jungle, Without an ice cap, or those desert spaces Composed of dust and emptiness and God. September’s drop-dead gorgeous or it’s plain Disaster here, airborne catastrophe, Some subtropical depression, say, Originating half a world away And gaining, as it moves across the sea, The turbine fury of a hurricane. Still, September’s dangerous days are few, Whirlwinds tracked worldwide. You can assume Responsible officials will foresee Such turmoil; you can count on your TV For early warning. There are those for whom This hasn’t worked, but it should work for you. I know a man who paused to say good-bye With care to those he loved one morning, fold Them in his arms, and just that slight delay Spared him on a bright September day When air turned ash, the center could not hold, The quickly dead fell burning from the sky. [image from...