To a child of my heart, I’m about to pass along a gift given me by the universe nearly a quarter century ago: my cameo ring with the bust of Aristotle. As you may anticipate, it comes with a story.
The plan is to publish a collection of stuff titled We’re All Going to Heaven Whether We Like It or Not. A recent letter is a candidate.
If you could wear just one hat for your whole life, what would it be? A recent experience has helped me discover my answer. There’s a place of residence in Peekskill, NY that caters to artists. The application process for an apartment includes being officially designated an Artist by the City. If for no other
I set out from the eastern wilderness in my periwinkle pickup with the YESS license plate bound for the Land of Angels, should there be such a place. Without realizing it, my destination was automatically plugged into that GPS gizmo we all carry in our heart, the one that, whether we know it or
SING I love singing with this song as loud as I can as frequently as I can. I call it meditation with a big mouth. Some words, they can’t be spoken, only sung So hear a thousand voices shouting love There’s a place There’s a time In this life When you sing
Shortly after our daughter Kathryn died last month, from the end of my drawing pen appeared this image of her. Big mind, heart body, new left foot. Nearly 50 years ago, the leg that foot was part of was amputated.
An email from a friend of our daughter Kathryn is among the most treasured I will ever receive. Her friend spoke of text messages he and Kath exchanged a week or so before her recent death. Specifically, from her, this: Just loving moment to moment. I’m fully in my Zen evolution, letting go of