The Manzanares

I wander down a street where a gypsy woman in black sings a cante jondo, tremulous and pulsating, from a terraza draped in laundry three flights up.

Released

I went to Sedona on a vision quest many months ago. I sat in a prayer room filled with the smoke of  tobacco, juniper and sweet grass. A man moved the smoke around us with an eagle feather and I saw spring.  A savage green spring so far in the future it felt like a date I will never live to see. 

Out of place

We are in the middle of a warm spell. A  few days out of place. Winter breaking the rules. The lakes have melted. The snow is gone. I took baby for a walk yesterday and he saw birds, maybe for the first time in his little life. Geese flew in a crooked V above us,... Continue Reading →

Winter

I took a stroll down a snow melted path by the Rancocas Creek with my love. We wore invisible red silk threads wrapped around our wrists in honor of our fated devotion as we meandered through a brown, sleeping field. Tiny sparrows crunched under brush on broken sticks.  And the whoo of a gentle wind... Continue Reading →

Stories of Madrid, Tarifa and Barcelona

Thursday, Jul 21, 2016, 11:36 PM Calle Mayor, 38, Madrid, Madrid, Spain 84°F Mostly Clear 11:37pm. Madrid time. I'm so grateful to be here, but so tired and already experiencing dizziness, headache, and exhaustion. It's strange being here with just Julien and I. I like it, and I am possibly more relaxed. But enough with... Continue Reading →

The perfect meal

I assure you this dish was so divine it threw me into a state of temporary nirvana so profound and so celestial that I became speechless for moments after I had first tasted it...

35 years of journal writing

If I slept with you, you're in these journals. If I partied with you, you're in these journals. If I loved you, you're in these journals. If I worked with you and found you any bit entertaining, you're in these journals. If I cried on your shoulder, or begged you to stay, or hated your fucking guts, you're in these journals.

Rail trip across France, Spain

When you travel as a family through Europe, it's almost impossible to find big rooms with a separate living area. Many times what they offer are "quadruple rooms," which is basically two double beds smushed together in one small room. I hate to be a whiny, priviledged American girl, but this won't fly with my family-- when you're traveling together for 18 days straight, you need your space. So, all of the rooms I booked either had connecting rooms, a separate bedroom area or, we simply rented two rooms.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑