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And On The Eighth Day
Extinction Song I, alone, am the last of my kind destined to die and leave nothing behind but a legend never again will the earth know my...


Exploring the Legacy: My Father Was a Monster
Daddy Dearest I loved my father. He was smart and funny, and he could build anything. He also told wonderful campfire stories, which...


Debunking the Myth: The Truth About Mysticism and Mental Illness
My self-referenced mysticism invokes amazing responses from educated people who don’t understand what I mean, and they tend to file me...


Flashback: The Broken Brain 2005
It smacks of a sinister sci-fi thriller—mutilated neural pathways, withered synapses, feeble neural transmitters. A mad scientist...


Mom
Mom’s been around a lot lately. She’s come and gone many times since she died forty years ago, always with the uncanny knack of showing...


Forest Life
I miss my woods and often revel in the sweet memories. Like the day the woods blushed. I stood at my kitchen windows, elbows on the cool...


More Mystical Musings
My self-referenced mysticism invokes amazing responses from educated people who do not understand what I mean, and they tend to file me...


Holy Semantics!
Yikes! Another holy war. Another cyber quarrel. Once again, the rabid defense of dogma does little to bring anyone closer to God and much...


Life Lies
I’m a kinda-sorta Nietzsche fan, and this comment resonates. He said, "Not that you lied to me, but that I no longer believe you—that is...


My Cocoon
I am cocooning, metaphorically turning inward and tucking my hands between my knees until the craziness abates. I am too listless to...


It's not you. It's me.
Those who have known me very well or very long understand that it’s not unusual for me to disappear. I don’t literally vanish, of course,...


Fatal Disillusionment
My mother died at fifty-nine — altogether too young for a woman of such talent, beauty, and generosity. Unofficial cause of death: Fatal...


The Swan Road
Mother! Hear me! My heart is heavy with sorrow I confess I find small hope in tomorrow For the sons of man wield a heavy hand Leaving...


Who Am I?
I was born a bard. Long before I could read or write I held court beneath the willow tree and amused the neighbor kids with tales of...


My Peaceful Woods from April, 2006
I miss my woods... Today, I made it to the lip of the valley and back, only once setting foot in snow. The way was soft with promise and...


I've never told anyone...
I’ve never told anyone before, so I suppose it only makes sense that I should tell the whole world in one fell swoop. I’m not ashamed of...


Gender Equality
“We’ll need writers who can remember freedom – poets, visionaries – realists of a larger reality.” ~ Ursula K Le Guin Stories shape our...


After the Book...
for now... fallow spent silent germinating


Truth Wizards
Like so many other things, the theory sounds better than the actual experience attests — being able to know whether someone is lying,...


The Story Keepers
We're older than rocks. And we have little choice as to our purpose in the world. Whether blogging or spinning tales through ancient peat...


Mystical Me
Ah, mystical me. My earliest memories are of my bewildering and urgent need to understand my relationship with God. I recall that I was...


Why Fiction?
We define fiction as a literary creation based on imagination, rather than fact. But the word derives from an ancient Latin root that...


Conscious Consumerism
Don’t you just love commercials? (Not.) We must admit, though, that modern advertising is doing a bang-up job of shaping the way our...


My Demon
I find myself in a peculiar situation. I generally do not vent my deepest torments in public, but two dear friends are dealing with...