Play

October 26, 2022.Reading time less than 1 minute.

Setting the Mood

October 14, 2022.Reading time less than 1 minute.

Slowed down by illness, I am craving artistic expression, but with 4-year-old boys in the house there is no safe place to art. On top of that, since the computer crash, I have not yet been able to retrieve my photographs or writing. So… I have been playing with the few photos, and stock photos […]

Photo Play

April 1, 2022.Reading time less than 1 minute.

Introduced my granddaughter to one of the photo apps I’ve been using and gave her my phone. Within minutes she created the featured image, speeding through the app as if she’d been doing it forever. Not be outdone, I borrowed the photos she’d taken of herself and created this: Not quite an April Fool’s joke, […]

Photo a Week: Whimsical

October 13, 2018.Reading time 1 minute.

Wasn’t quite sure if this crowing rooster was whimsical or forlorn, now that the flowers that had previously blocked it have been cut down. Whimsical is lying in the grass with a pink helmet on trying to roll your tongue: This past weekend we celebrated Canadian Thanksgiving with a family gathering. A full-length mirror provided […]

The Risks of Playing in Traffic

September 19, 2016.Reading time 4 minutes.

Go play in traffic, kids! was a favourite direction of one of my aunt’s. This particular aunt was snarly, often critical, and never filtered in her commentary on life. Her favourite point of contention was how spoiled we children were, how unappreciative, etc. She also frequently threatened to move to Alaska to get away from […]

Discord

Does illness have a voice,and if so; is it melancholy,or dark and dank, divulgingdeepest despair, or revealinga vileness of nature? Discord creeps along my veins,disrupts muscles, systems failingunder the oppression –“Stay strong,” friends counsel,cannot hear the gathering storm,feel the heaviness cloaking me. I am not myself, but then;who am I? Is disease a mutationof the […]

Save Us

Discharge the gun –protection a vesselthrough which our depthsare undefined…adrift Fear is a burrowerwears a false crownbirths losstrusts danger Hearts beg,amid this trigger-readinessfor a guardian – unafraidto court this meaningless Futility unchecked –to study productive optionsunimaginable in the current state of chaos on repeat. (Art my own)

I Am Willow

These bones, they saywill finish me – too brittleto withstand the race But I am Willowrecollection wispymy dance defiant Porous as a sea spongesoaking up each daymettle despite the rattle (Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)