an old painting from a local art show I’d had titled “Creatured” – an amalgam of critters blended together – some whimsical, others ridiculous and some like that dopey orange bunny
what the hell did I make a book for
National Poetry Month
thanks to my dear friend and fellow writer DS Levy for the tee-shirt gift, and thanks to the handsome model, my dear little teenage son
a link for you if so inclined to throw coins into a writer’s cup
why I write
long-time friend
I’ve joined the multitudes who brag about their pooch’s superpowers – I’m turning into a full-on nerd😘
discovery
striving for a little humor these days-very little😘
my kinda cupid
enjoy this thoughtful day (I’m going to pretend back in 1913 Hallmark didn’t see the commercial opportunity that this historical day presented 😘)
circle right go left
my daughter’s nails, her mother’s thoughts…(usually after reading the morning paper)
unused card
“Winter Wonderland” by Terry Redlin
This image sits on the shelf of my bedroom closet where I see it every morning and remember…
Other than this greeting card, I was unaware of Mr Redlin’s expansive body of work or that- “During the 1990s he was frequently named “America’s most popular artist” in annual gallery surveys conducted by U.S. Art magazine.”
Today while writing this homage, I was moved to write Mr. Redlin to thank him. I learned he passed away in 2016.
Weathervane
Weathervane – a tiny true story
check out Front Porch Review, and thank you
Weathervane
Eyes pointed at the sky. Melody clear and perfect settled on the roof. Tiny voice filling the air. Delicate hollow bones balancing on the weathervane. Seems decades ago we discovered the wrought iron fixture at the flea market; a creaky dive with discarded toys, Post-Depression tools and miles of missing teeth. We anchored the wind reader, with its proud patina horse, to the garage peak. There, our valiant filly galloped through the atmosphere till her strong legs could no longer outrun the wind. Somehow, the compass remained intact.
On the dull backdrop of another chilly overcast day, my little bird friend has chosen one metal branch above the others. As I listen to sunrise songs floating down to the driveway, I assign new meaning to the weathervane. S for Sun—for you, the warmth in our lives no matter the weather.
anntogether 