The cordwood house- 2006-2013

Thunder (repost)

July 13, 2021

This new website feels like a new house to me. I’m finding new rooms to work in every time I upload material, and my library of photo stories is still here to dip in to when needed.

It moves as I do, grows as I do. I’m overjoyed.

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The Queen suggests…

January 4, 2020

The first few hours of the year 2020 are dressed with finely sifted snow. No hollering or screeching of tires, just the old trees rumbling peacefully in Gage Park. Some fireworks to the northwest begin at 11:55 and continue for fifteen minutes. I sense a breathing out in the world, like a photographer does, after […]

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The happy grouch

April 10, 2013

Annoyed – that on April 10th at 6:45 am the wonderful deep drenching spring rain turned to heavy wet snow before my eyes.  I don’t have a picture for this post because I was too annoyed to take one – you’ll just have to imagine the soggy, cold, icy slop of it and feel my […]

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No straight lines

March 28, 2013

I dig into the Brahms E minor cello this morning and find myself swimming strong in a strong river – a great deep and fast and roiling that collects and contains a watershed of stories as it carves it’s way through the land. Why, Mr. Brahms.  It is good to meet you here from across […]

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trip theme

February 4, 2013

I’ve had early morning conversation with one of my rarely seen Incredibles, who is now off to work.  Two others flop in their beds – they will be vertical, and then verbal, soon. but hang on – the snow is blowing from left to right through the alleyway behind my head.  Horozontal snow is normal […]

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January 2013

January 30, 2013

A fog-laden wind sifts through tree boughs to the northwest.  Into my left ear the presto drip of snowmelt on metal roof is punctuated by a random slide, thunk of heavier stuff pulled to ground.  On my lap, the steady, thundering purr of kitten. The dark outside is thick with visible air, like stirred winter […]

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The sound of a giant awakening

January 2, 2013

My desk is in a new place – not sure I like it yet. To my right, a pile of ash and cherry lumber, drywall, moor vents, a roll of typar, a garbage bag full of roxyl & strips of R20 styrofoam.  A rolled-up rug, boxes of Christmas decorations from 2 years ago. To my […]

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Winter Solstice, 2012

December 21, 2012

I woke in my bed this morning at 6:15, just in time to feel something shift. Winter solstice dawns today with fine fine snowfall out of white into white.  Even the trees are disappearing  – their branches look like fine pencil lines now.  I’m watching the snow fall, listening to the incredible Mychael Danna soundtrack […]

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This morning’s texture

December 18, 2012

The rain on our tin roof keeps me dreaming past the appointed 6 am, then 7am, and even the waking realization of this isn’t jarring.  Now coffee’d and downstairs beside the fire, I gaze out the window where the cat uncurls into a stretch.  It really should be snow, but the effect is the same:  […]

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Children killing children

December 16, 2012

Here are two voices that ring true for me in response to the shootings in Connecticut – please read what they have written with your best self, and think about it.  Then decide what your part of the solution will be. From Morgan Freeman (or I’d like to think so – maybe this is some […]

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soak it up

December 7, 2012

I’m home, sick today. It’s a full-stop ‘flu, and I’m bundled in triple layers of clothing – including my dad’s old navy turtleneck & the big red sweater my mom knit for me in 1982.  I am on my third bowl of the excellent chicken soup made for me by incredible friend and husband Grant, […]

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