Category: Creativity
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The Resurrection of Forgotten Love
In my youth, I loved with an intensity that burned hot and blinding-white, like a strip of Phosphorus. It consumed me and took control of my personal and private self. All my waking moments were devoted to devising ways to make this love, love me in return. In this vain attempt, I failed. How can…
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Talent Night at the County Fair: July, 2014
An I-beam blocked our view from our first choice of seats. We went back down and back up. Great view! A mud horse track separated the half-filled grandstand from the stage. The stage was named for the Waste Removal Company that takes the trash from most of the homes of Clinton Co., NY. It had…
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My Right Chest, My Ringtone and a Cemetery
Just this afternoon, I found myself in a cemetery. For those who are keen on details, it was Saint Alphonsus Cemetery in Tupper Lake, NY. The skies were blue with patchy cumulus clouds; a departure from the thunderstorms we’ve been experiencing. I love to stroll in cemeteries. Usually, they are quiet places excellent for the…
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Waving My Way Out Of Purgatory
I’m absolutely convinced that I’m going to Purgatory. I know for certain that I’m going to Purgatory. Even my high school girlfriend told me I was going to Purgatory. “Why am I going there?” I would ask her. “Because.” She would reply. “I saw the way you looked at me just now.” “But I didn’t…
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The Ball: A Fable
So you want to hear a story, is that right? Yes. Okay, then I’ll tell a story to you…even you, over there in the corner. Come closer. The boys did as they were told. A story? Well, if you don’t mind I’d rather call it a Fable. That is if you don’t really mind. Fables…
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Reflections on Father’s Day [My Split Personality]
My wife showed me the mirror. “Shall I toss it?” I looked at the brass Art Nouveau frame, just enough Erte to grab my eye. “No way,” I said. I was standing on the deck and I held the object d’art up and found my reflection. The glass was broken in several places. My face…
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At The Hound Tor
This is the place of legends. Arthur Conan Doyle saw these rocks and promptly went home to write The Hound of the Baskervilles. Our walk was five miles, beginning in the car park on the north side of Hound Tor. We were to end our day climbing up and over and between the rock outcrops,…
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The Child and the Sea
Children are attracted to the sea. Perhaps it’s the thundering waves, or the endless ways that sand can be used. The waves are constant, soothing and steady, like a lullaby. The castles that can be built in the sand can be as humble or regal as the wildest imagination. Perhaps, the attraction is in the…
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Passports 14: The Sad Life & Lonely Death of Kitty Gray
The Tors and heathland of Dartmoor is a landscape that breeds legends. Legends, myths, mysteries and ghosts. The guidebooks tell you not to go out onto the moors when the weather is foul. When the fog descends, as it often does, and when the misty rain falls on the gorse, and on the matted shag…
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