March 2015

Acting out

March 31, 2015

Recently, I took a two-day workshop called Writing for the Page and Stage. It was offered by  Anne Randolph, a one-woman performer who runs writing and improv workshops. She has a sensibility and sensuality about life that I love. She knows things about the body and how much emotion we hold in our tissues, muscles, […]

Read the full article →

Live and die

March 30, 2015

Yesterday I tried to kill myself Today I tried to live Something happened overnight I’m not sure what it is So cruelly slow and casual So replete with savoir faire I could have died, did die, in fact When nobody was there In my dream late last night You, the murderer, appeared You had your […]

Read the full article →

Andreas Lubitz and depression

March 28, 2015

Like many other people, I am dismayed at the way in which depression is already being used to explain the decision made by Andreas Lubitz to crash the Germanwings plane with a force so shocking and so obliterating, there are only crumbs of the 150 lives, including his own, left. Making the decision to obliterate […]

Read the full article →


March 6, 2015

A man cleaning windows Says to me as I walk by on the street Holding my coffee, sandwich in a bag (Really, he could have been talking to anyone) “Whenever I see them Walking like that With their hands behind their backs It always makes me think Of bondage… You know, the way they are… […]

Read the full article →

The black bag

March 5, 2015

I have just finished speaking to the police on the phone. When I came out of my apartment door to go to work this morning, I was startled by seeing a black bag leaning up against the mesh outer door. We all have thoughts about these things. My thoughts feel laden with dread because I […]

Read the full article →


March 1, 2015

My father never did anything to excess. His favorite saying was “All things in moderation.” His position was in stark contrast to my mother’s immoderation, particularly with regard to how she managed her diabetes.  In any event, my father only ever had one beer when he finished work at the end of the day. He […]

Read the full article →