Writing and speaking publicly about my mother's death story makes my heart pick up the beat and sing from the depths where love, compassion, and our relationship lives. My mother died from breast cancer in February 2018. She used medical aid-in-dying to end unbearable pain and suffering caused by terminal cancer's relentless growth and destruction …
Originally published in 2019 - edited & reposted 2/4/21 A year of my life is history; a year my mother was not here to experience the ups and downs of everyday life, the blooms in her gardens, or the thunder of last week's storms. Breast cancer claimed her for its statistical rollcall in February 2018, …
Painting a cloud study leads to a poem.
As I contemplated my 55th birthday falling on the U.S. presidential election day this year, and all that hinged upon the outcome, questions kept coming up. What is an electionday (space deleted intentionally) but a birth shared by millions? By the world?
I immersed myself in painting a Cal Fire Super Huey helicopter after reading about the helicopter pilot, Michael Fournier, who died fighting a fire last week. Then I realized why I was so compelled.
Creativity is therapeutic, it's survival, built into our brains as human beings so that we may overcome challenges, solve problems, process experiences, and tell our stories to those who need to know them, and to ourselves.
Whooping cough is no joke.
A cough, a healing message from the other side, and art that gets me through.
This free webinar includes general information regarding COVID19 and a basic overview of California's End of Life Option Act.
When I was in eighth grade in 1978-79, at Sequoia Intermediate, in my hometown of Newbury Park, California, I had to choose an elective each semester. I remember the choices of drawing, ceramics, and leather. I don't remember anything about the other subjects offered. "Mom, I want to take the drawing class." "Why? You can't …