Art is Therapy
For me, art is therapy. I’m no Georgia O’Keefe, mind you. Crafting is probably a better word for what I do. For several years, I did acrylic pouring, and I even sold a few pieces. Back then, I had a large area to work (play ☺) in. Since I downsized—and I’m very glad I did…
One Paragraph at a Time
I’m reading the Dostoevsky novel, THE BROTHERS KARAMOV—one paragraph at a time. Why? Certainly a reasonable question. The book was featured on this year’s Prayer 40 Lent Season series on the Hallow app, which is why I remembered it, and the story is a version of the parable of the prodigal son in the Bible—small…
Giving up the Negativity
Stuff I used to watch on YouTube. Stuff my smart daughter calls “rage-bait” I would have described those videos as drama, rather than rage-bait. They fascinated me. But they did make me angry. There were body-cam videos of police officers arresting or simply trying to question nutcases who seemed to think the law didn’t apply…
What Are the Odds?
What Are the Odds? Synchronicities. I’ve experienced a lot of these over the years, but one stands out in my mind. Years ago, living in Scottsdale, Arizona, I took an art class—several, really—and one of the instructors, a woman whose name I don’t remember now, befriended me. One fine morning, when I was in the…
Something New…
I’m in the plotting stage of writing my next novel, tentatively titled THE REFUGE, and let me tell you, I’m excited. And grateful. Grateful because I was blocked and burned out for several years, and the results were discouraging, to say the least. Depression can be brutal, as I’m sure many of you already know,…
An Evening in San Diego
San Diego is full of friendly people and pleasant places, and yesterday, Jeremy, Wendy and I visited a local Farmer’s Market. Unlike many others, this one was limited to a few hours on Friday afternoon/evening and set up along a street lined with restaurants and shops. Honestly, the experience was quite nearly magical. Music played,…
Meeting Burt Reynolds!
As some of you may know, I’m the daughter of a town marshal—Grady “Skip” Lael, of Northport, Washington, the small community where I grew up. Things were so different back in the day that some of my memories are in black-and-white, like an episode of “Leave It to Beaver” or, more to the point, “Gunsmoke.”…
Kintsugi is a Wonderful Analogy
At last, I’m feeling better, although I’m not fully recovered. This cold has been a challenge, that’s for sure. It’s my belief, though, that even things we see as bad are very often part of a long-range plan that will result in something good. God is the Potter, after all, and we are the clay. …
I Know a Guy…
I can’t, but I know a Guy. That’s a line from a t-shirt I love to wear. In fact, I have quite a collection of what I call Jesus shirts. Some are funny—like the one where Jesus is looking over the top of His sunglasses and saying, “I’m telling Dad.” Another shows the lyrics of…
New books and old favorites
Well, that nasty cold is still hanging on, so I didn’t get to this blog as soon as I wanted to. This afternoon, while rummaging through a box of my older books, out in the garage, I came across the paperback version of THE MAN FROM STONE CREEK, published way back in 2006— twenty years…