Category: Memories

HOME FROM MY TRAVELS

HOME FROM MY TRAVELS

Clutching my passport, wheeling recalcitrant suitcases, collecting misplaced paraphernalia, and searching for door C on level three, I barely had time for a goodbye hug with friend Heath before I was on my way home. The past twelve days of constant companionship had become telescoped into a quick slip of time. Thought and emotion became…

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WHAT IF?

WHAT IF?

This tesserae piece is one of my favorite compositions. The small tesserae pieces cut from old paintings and used to create the image, are a reflection of my earliest day-dreams. When I was five or six, I often stayed with my grandparents during the summer. Sitting on their back porch whiling away the time, staring…

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THIS AND THAT

THIS AND THAT

Lately I seem to be tripping on little bits of this and that … the odd phrase, random thought, passing gesture, or old lessons gleaned from others. Like silk tendrils, they are woven into the fabric of my life. I am sure those who once shared their thoughts or dropped their clever non sequitur, are…

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OFF OFF AND AWAY

OFF OFF AND AWAY

I am not what anyone would call a spontaneous individual. The pattern of my life for the most part has bordered on the somnolent. So it came as a shock to me-myself-and-I, as well as those who knew me back then, that I should leave behind a successful career in Library-Land to pursue a degree…

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THE FOUNDATION OF MEMORY

THE FOUNDATION OF MEMORY

After my mother died, I discovered some random photos tucked away in her desk. A small packet of memories carefully wrapped in an envelope worn soft from frequent use, with a little bit of cardboard to keep them flat, they were photographs of my late stepfather’s family. Gerhard kept them handy in case anyone thought…

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TRIXIE

TRIXIE

We would walk almost every day, my friend and I. She had a sweet little black cocker spaniel who needed walking and I needed the exercise as well as the comradery. The three of us walked down little-used roads, country lanes, and decrepit old tarmacs. They were ideal for our long rambles and perfect for…

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SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY

SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY

As a child, I watched my Grandmother stich and sew, employing her hands to good effect creating beautiful and useful hand work. The fruits of her labors … the quilts and pillows and aprons and tablecloths and tea towels and dresses … were woven into the fabric of my life. Some, like the tablecloths, were…

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Tuscan Memoir

Tuscan Memoir

Memory can be a slick shyster … a Monte Bank adept at shuffling our recollection of events, be they ghastly or awesome. Really gruesome events remain vivid for a time and then, if we are lucky, fade and lose their sharp edges. They are no less powerful, but their grip eases as our lives move…

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SMALL STEPS

SMALL STEPS

Our house in Iowa City… the house of my early childhood … had front porch steps, back-porch steps, and a side door stoop.  But in addition, there were what Mom called the sidewalk steps. These were the three small steps leading up from the sidewalk to the front walk. I have since found they are…

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Mediterranean Dream

Mediterranean Dream

In the midst of our cold New England winter, with snow and ice framing every view, I dream of Italy and the south of France. Like the memory of sun-drenched childhood, they are forever warm and alive in their colors.