We are on this earth to create. Have at it.
Essays | Commentary | Photography
The tale of an extraordinary individual.
On the surface he’s not much to look at: plain Jane, average mover, too big to be cute, too short to look sturdy. He didn’t even have a name. But he had the one true gift of life: potential.
Rest assured, there are no secrets here.
Recently we drove through scenic Alburtis, Pennsylvania where I picked up some great curbside appeal ideas. Like endless ways to use versatile rippled, green fiberglass roofing, the year-round charm of fake flowers in hanging pots and the magic of spotting a latent Halloween skeleton.
When is dreaming contrary to living?
I’m amazed at how quickly my perspective can change. I walk the same path through the forest, day after day, and don’t recognize that familiarity dulls my delight—how the brown, barren landscape that has recently failed to catch my eye, holds the potential to rock my world.
Is that something that should matter?
When I slipped from the womb, all that kept me from climbing on the back of a horse was my lack of mobility. And a horse, of course.
The message that's being sent by calling it shameful.
On occasion sex appears in my writing because I portray journeys—adult journeys where indicated. And a large majority of adults have, you guessed it, sex.