“Time is what we want most, but what we use worst.”― William Penn When I take the boys’ photos each Autumn, sometimes in my pop-up studio and sometimes out in the wild, I become reluctantly reacquainted with the relentless passage of time. The subtle changes in their faces are a fine example of the muse: “Isn’t … More Seven
Some thoughts on the past 4 months… It all started last July. To be honest, it was even before that; the discontent and restlessness prompting me to look for a change. In the middle of a pandemic, when you work in healthcare, the logical place to look for change is in your work. So when … More A brief briefing
During the afternoon, the heat is oppressive. Not in the heavy way like the humid East, but dry and searing, like the southern deserts. And no place is it hotter than my back deck. Intensified by reflection, the sun bakes the wood while calescent wind swirls like a convection oven. The outdoor rug ingests the … More metamorphose
Winter collapses Sun sinks into horizon near nine Perennials emerging from rest, rain washing sleep from their eyes Hope Awakens in me . Bleakness crumbles Sun births from horizon near six Leaves emerging from darkness, light drawing life from their veins Hope Awakens in me . And yet even in Springtime the wind bites the … More The Last Mile is Always the Hardest
She waxes fire and fury Violent in temperament Savage hail and wilder winds Hurling arrows of searing rage across Blackened skies She settles broad and brimming Verdant to even shadowland Colour seeping from field and flower Drifting feathers of cirrus bliss through Cerulean vault She wanes tattered, threadbare Humble in submission A final feast for … More Eulogy
“We have everyday habits – formative practices – that constitute daily liturgies. By reaching for my smartphone every morning, I had developed a ritual that trained me toward a certain end: entertainment and stimulation via technology. Regardless of my professed worldview or particular Christian subculture, my unexamined daily habit was shaping me into a worshiper … More Imprint
The weather in September on the prairies was a bit like a lottery. You bought a ticket and crossed your fingers for Indian Summers with long shadows over gilded fields; late bloomers bravely defying the approaching solstice and picnic lunches with fresh crisp apples and bored but hungry wasps. This year, the cold came early. … More Shift
Wind and Bone 