she  left at twilight goodbye love when raptors take flight there is a small hope on the road here she exhales atropa consort of spirits she’s better up in the mountains

redbud blooms unshy as you grieve vermillion  mockingbird  there’s no one left at noontide

“When you go to the river to wash your hands, wash all you fingers”. – Mbayero, before going to mbongi, Mekelekele.

Practicing painting more trees. First time doing leaves and flowers.

Haven’t painted in 24 years, think I’ll pick it up again.

Been cleaning, unpacking and repacking. It’s a blessing //maybe? // that I am so good at living as though I need to get up and go at the drop of a hat. A few…

After walking around here feeling very uncomfortable about all this cleanup, actually it’s not the clean up it’s the unsettling feeling that I get when I look at certain things. There’s just been too…

Today is September 11, 2020. I am just now able to gather some of my thoughts and unpack from 2 Evacuations since August 18th. One was a mandatory evac and the other was a…

The winds calmed last night so we didn’t have to evacuate. It’s 86 degrees out, substantially cooler than yesterday and the sky has an errie ocher glow, reminiscent of the sky in the movie…