Bittersweet

I spent most of last weekend in a kitchen heavenly fragrant with dried fruits, cinnamon, vanilla, ginger, nutmeg, brandy and red wine. That magnificent aroma of the holiday season wafting richly from mulled wine, glistening fruitcakes, sugar cookies and spicy gingerbread. I also brought out my largest pot to make a large batch of treats…Read more Bittersweet

Thankful

Part of me will always be suspended in disbelief. Dangling where there is no ground, no up or down, nothing more substantial than a mysterious ether. But I am not afraid. I am grateful. I know there are plenty of reasons to be worried, sorrowful, pessimistic. Plenty of tragedy, injustice and hate embedded, looming and…Read more Thankful

The Pendulum of Empathy

“Why empathy?” Silence. “Why compassion?” Silence. “Why should we care about each other?” No one answered. It wasn’t that we didn’t want to answer, we simply struggled to find the best reasoning for it. Perhaps we had never asked ourselves these existential questions before. Perhaps we couldn’t find an answer that wasn’t trite, naïve, or saturated…Read more The Pendulum of Empathy

On Art

As much as I love words and communicating, I have to admit, there’s more to life. Why can’t things just be? Why can’t you just do something because it’s fun or it just feels good? You don’t have to explain anything to anyone if it doesn’t concern them. In the popular wisdom of the day:…Read more On Art

Portrait of the Artist

What are you afraid of? That they’ll see right through you? See through your farce? Your vain bid for importance? That no amount of effort will surmount the appraisal of your surface? Or insubstantialize your many failures and shortcomings? (In fact, make them all the more obvious.) That you will be deserving of neither attention…Read more Portrait of the Artist

The Center Everywhere

My husband used to tell me a little story I have since cherished that occurred on the day I first arrived in Germany ten years ago. My flight out of New York had been abruptly delayed by a few hours, so he had to wait for me in the airport lobby for quite a while.…Read more The Center Everywhere

Pale Forest

I used to dream of forests, asleep and awake. Dense groves of ancient giants, gilded domes of oak and maple, stands of slender aspens, bearing silent witness, swaying to a breath. Wild, hidden places where life seemed much more alive, at once intense and restorative. Where my outline might be found more cleanly within the…Read more Pale Forest