We all take journeys, whether we want to or not, whether we are prepared or not. Our entire life is a journey, starting with that first cry which we learn gets us attention to the last soft murmur as death carries us over. What happens in between is up to us, and it is what matters.
Continue reading… "Journeys"
In 2005, with the generous support of the Island community, I completed a book of photographs and essays, Pictures Without Borders: Bosnia Revisited, which narrates the story of my return trip to the Balkans after thirty years in search of places and people from the past.
I was nineteen years old, returning from a winter in the jungles of Southern Belize, dramatically changed by a foreign climate and culture. On contract as a student of The Evergreen State College of Olympia, Washington, I’d been immersed in studying rainforest natural history and the lives and subsistence strategies of the Kekchi Maya.
Continue reading… "Crow"Genevieve Heller was on her knees, weeding. The soil, black and soft after the recent rains, let go of the weeds readily. Her fingers tightened around the base of a blooming filaree. Such pretty rose-lavender flowers. Sorry, filaree, out you go.
She swept her hair away from her face with the back of her hand. Her knees hurt. Every time she moved along the border, her knees hurt more.
Continue reading… "Life After Herbert"Belador dragged her up the stairs, saying good night with such quickness to his mother that Etaine regarded them with some sadness in her eyes. “We have a great deal of work to see to in the morning. Rest well.” Belador pulled Sauvir up the stairs with the concentration of a questing hound and too tired to resist, she let her curiosity have its way with her.
Continue reading… "Ringmaker (excerpt)"I look for you
beneath the bed,
inside my boots,
nestling in the folds
of my sheets.
the dark, scarlet curve
fades to pale.
pink skin sparkling
juice dripping,
this is what it is like
to love someone
who will never love you back:
it is a thorn in the chest
buried deep, drawing blood.
the sky will be black
ashen limbs falling at my feet
torn hearts bleeding in the grass
brown rabbits, green grasshoppers, black crows, red foxes
all scrambling in herds of dust and blood and pain
At last the sun
breaks free of the gray cover,
leaving a glaucous sheen
on the horizon.
Two eagles,
inspired by the wind,
spiral around each other
in their amorous dance.
