6-year-old me didn’t need to know the author’s name, although the gold-coloured Newberry medal on the cover intrigued, if only mildly . What mattered then, to begin with, was the dread of the goblins, the treachery of milk turned sour, and the anguish of villagers. More recently, the premise of this tale resurfaced in my…

There’s a particular kind of memento mori that leads one to peaceful acquiescence in feeling and being small. So along with this image from the Luther Marsh, I’d like to share a few thoughts that I’ve gleaned from various artists and theologians. In particular the patient, thoughtful work of Andy Goldworthy is as helpful to…

The bit in brackets is not a scripture reference. "Rev. 2" is a designation to indicate that this is the second revision (or waypoint, or landmark, or stopover) of an image on a journey. I’m discovering a new level of process in artmaking. The first instance of Eden, Zion is now more than a year…

These words herald a story told elsewhere. I’m telling it there because I thought I would be cleaner in its own space. Take me there! These words herald a story told elsewhere. I’m telling it there because I thought I would be cleaner in its own space. Take me there!

Is there life after shelf life? After shelf death, is there redemption? If dinner’s not your destiny you grow tusks, you’re grotesque You dangle instead on a wire in the limelight: objectified. Today my subjects are afraid, eyebrows whispering to nervous furrows. Primetime was years ago and retirement isn’t much fun in the dark. Will…

I love housework. I don’t always do my chores on time, but when I do them, I go all out. Today, "all out" refers to the grace I’ve found in an empty soap container. Grace, flowing through my eyes and into my soul, by means of the fine lines between light and viscosity, and in…

While for the generals Montcalm and Wolfe, "Québéc Citadel" might have connoted heavy artillery, my own scaling of the QC cliffs this past December involved strictly the shorter spelling of "Canon". I hate everything touristy, so when I find myself for a few days, a tourist with a camera, I feel the need to justify…

Whether or not I did my dishes well, the microsopic remnants of yesterday’s fair may well mingle with tonight’s risotto adding to it such palimpsestuous character as that which appears daily on my the house whiteboard, whose time tested usage continually resists our efforts to scrape (clean & use) again.