27 October 2013
The farm machines are well dressed for foliage.
Patterns, light and clear colors gather underwater.
Warm days, chilly nights and last swims.
Empty houses filled with summers stories,
still secret and untold.
On a walk a single yellow leaf looks up at me.
15 September 2013
A story alongside the road.
A neighbor hires two men to rebuild his stonewalls.
He thinks the work is going slowly so he paints
a starting rock green and an ending rock red to
show them their daily work. Another neighbor
finds the red and green rocks amusing. He adds a
white rock. Then perhaps the same neighbor
or another one adds an orange rock. A few
weeks go by and the stonewall has a line of
many colored rocks sitting on top.
No one knows whether it is one neighbor or
several who are adding the colored rocks.
September and the stonewall is nearly
finished. Then one morning a new gold rock
appears. It is unto itself and glittery. The long
line of other painted rocks cheer. The
stonewall is finally finished. And the
story has a golden ending.
18 August 2013
Home again in August with a small terrarium
of woodsy smells to keep me at the lake.
I needed a deer to pose for me and she came to the apple trees.
I’ve had a full working summer spent almost entirely inside the new book.
Late August and the shades of blues and greens change.
12 July 2013
Lake days, uninterrupted time. The ducks are
the only ones quacking back to me.
Workspace with green and blue views.
A new book informed by all that surrounds me.
A reflection of sky, water, sky.
A month of seeing and working.
5 June 2013
Sunapee islands in late June.
A sparse, litte house with simple chairs.
Ones that hold stories.
These chairs live with us now but they still belong
to other, old lives. You can feel them. It’s comforting.
A month or so of living at the lake. Morning dips,
work, tea breaks, swims and dinners with friends.
27 May 2013
Olive is ten.
Hats & bones & birthday naps.
Shoots & buds & blossoms, spring.
Tender, old apple trees talk amongst themselves.
Morning walks of awakening smells and birdsongs.
Flowering trees dance on sloping hillsides.
Inside, new sketches.
Outside, black tea & honey
& milk on the porch.
We’re all beginning again.
13 April 2013
Yay, It’s out!
And it’s in!
And it’s out again!
INSIDE OUTSIDE published by Chronicle Books, spring ’13. Look for it at your local bookstore and visit your favorite book blogs.
6 April 2013
In Vermont we have glorious springs. It happens in the blink of an eye. We go from muddy browns to limey greens. Monkey waits under the bush with baby.
There are sleepy colors all around. This year I’ve noticed the winter costumes worn
by little trees and bushes at other peoples houses. Mine didn’t dress up.
A frail tree poses as a dancer with a wire tutu
Behind screens, three bushes wait, shadowy, seductive about to undress in spring.