I almost missed it, but it’s been one of those weeks, and the very last proverbial bump-in-the-road is a 2-inch incision with eleven stitches across the back of my shoulder. Rest and don’t get hot and sweaty, the doctor tells me. Down here at the edge of the hot and...
My mother helped make me an artist because she taught me to see as one struck by wonder. Through her eyes, I first treasured thistle’s down and oak’s curved limb, leaf’s shadow and bird’s wing, the shapes of clouds and the kind of smiles made...
I hadn’t left the house in three days. My kids morphed into independence overnight and what I was cooking for dinner became the highlight of my week. When writing turned into a meaningless task, I knew I was in trouble. In Julia Cameron’s words I had “overfished (my)...
My parents moved from the Detroit area to buy four small rustic cabins on a lake in northern lower Michigan and later built a six-room motel. Our little house’s screened-in porch (that I painted chartreuse when my folks were away) served as the office. I can...
Every year for Christmas, she’d give us roughly the same thing. My sister and I would sneer and groan at the oversize art books on “how to draw faces” like the ones you’d see in a Michelangelo painting. One time, my giant book came tucked...
I decided to start blogging after sitting through a frustrating board meeting. After hours of listening to the founding member of a new ministry share ideas that seemed incomprehensibly irrelevant, it ignited a fire inside me. I realized that if a leader doesn’t care...
