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This evening’s walk

A rather warm evening for the end of November. I walked off a few of the feast’s calories, peering at the stars through Seattle’s clouds. 

This evening’s walk

A rather warm evening for the end of November. I walked off a few of the feast’s calories, peering at the stars through Seattle’s clouds. 

A Thanksgiving Haiku For You

Grace in gratitude

The humbleness of our spirit

Thanksgiving’s healing



I hope each end every one of you felt blessed and loved today…and on all days.

A Thanksgiving Haiku For You

Grace in gratitude

The humbleness of our spirit

Thanksgiving’s healing



I hope each end every one of you felt blessed and loved today…and on all days.

Recommend Reading: @ClaireDederer’s “What Do We Do with the Art of Monstrous Men?”

As my culture deals with abrupt waves of awareness of the ugly, monstrous behaviors of so many prominent men, Claire Dederer presents a rather thoughtful article. 

What Do We Do with the Art of Monstrous Men?

I struggle with this, too. Ms. Dederer captures my sentiment quite nicely. Very insightful questions, making one think, which seems considered criminal any more. 

Dreaming of the Sky

Underneath the rain
The sky above beckons me
Freedom of the sky

Sometimes I wonder

I wonder if I would’ve resisted the Nazis had I lived in WWII Germany. Would I have been able to resist my fears, of the ever present Gestapo.

Do you think you would’ve risked your life?

Opened Eyes

I always seek clarity. Often, the more I seek, the less I find.

Once I sketched a lot. Just little things. But the habit waned. A friend’s challenge got me open my sketchbooks again. I’ll rebirth this part of myself.

Let me know what you think in the comments. Also, please like and share.

I broke out my sketchbook today

I haven’t done much more than doodle for years. My soul had been begging my to start again. So, he we are.

This sketchbook is one I’ve had for years. So easy to let the blank page intimidate me. I don’t want to ruin my book with crap. Fear.

Finally, with an abrupt leap, the pencil came forth and the paper got marked. No one died. So things are good.

Drawing again

Time to draw again
I’ve neglected this too long
Don’t wait for “perfect”