art, writing, aikido and the universe


sources of inspiration

Old Photos

skies and roadways

red tractors and maple trees

my cat and my husband

sisters by the  train,

tree branches, cement bricks

fences, flowers,

and the sky

reaching across

roadway with a green exit sign.




Upside down

The world is upside down

in my wine glass

reflected with clarity

but bowed by curve of glass

the curve of the world

the curve of the sea

the curve of your body

when you turn to

speak to me in the shower,

drops glancing off you

as I sketch the first

drawing of the day.

You are my constant

as I blow from

mood to mood,

my thoughts swinging too hard.

I can only admire

those who travel with easy comfort

in these streets turned upside down.


Before Dawn

The moon

a slender bowl

resting on treetops,

Venus above.

The park

was closed.

Community and Creative Process

I have lived in artistic communities since early adulthood. I love the energy, feel it even when I am alone in my room. There is affirmation of the value of creating within an art community. There is knowledge that process is important. The energy in a community where people participate in the creative process helps generate ideas, even as we disagree  about the relative value of specific pieces or particular forms of art.
Art for me has been a means of keeping an even keel in a crazy world.
Often when I create, whether a poem, a painting or a song, I don’t fully understand the symbols and juxtapositions of ideas until much later. Art is not a way to recreate reality, but distorts reality in order to fully portray it, like a curved glass will focus the sun’s rays on a single point, and result in a fire.


photo of Baltimore rapper Wealth making a music video in Savage, Maryland.


To My Husband

I don’t really care

if you wash the dishes

in the dishwasher

even after

I’ve washed them and placed them

in the drying rack.

I don’t really care

that my desire to buy

large pots

and dirt

and throw seeds in them

to see what comes up

annoys you.

What is most important

is the knowing of each other.

The small things

are who we really are.

When I was sick and despairing,

you comforted me,

forced me to eat,

and stroked my hair.

When you come home to me,

I listen to your stories

your sorrows, worries,

triumphs and joys.

We still sleep


my arms wrapped around

your strong back,

or your leg snuggled

between my thighs.

And thus we know each other

past the superficial conversations

of friends

and casual lovers.



ovaries out.

i imagine sex

try to recall

wanting you.

it’s been raining for days.

It is at

It is at
Where we see them
Most clearly.

Shadow laid on shadow
Cut by sunlight
Bare branches
Life tightly sealed inside
Bark and layered rings
Counting years
Back into past.

All cast
Cerulean winter
Sky so clear
I can almost see
The infinite


at the monastery

we walk


like the sun

moves in our sky.

we spin

each bronze wheel

one after another.

we seek harmony


these 12th century

fidget spinners.


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