Sitting in the storm, I feel myself perched onto my designated morning meditation spot on the gray couch.Three pillows and a blanket draped on top. I sit, gather the blanket , and toss it aside. The wood stove, made in Germany,is across the room to my left. To the right…

I’m sitting in a wheelchair in the physical rehab unit of Pawtucket Memorial Hospital It’s been almost two weeks since that Saturday night whenmy friend Kathleen, dropped me off at the emergency room of the Miriam hospital. As the car turned the corner, I slouched back in the passenger seat…

" He a killer Erna!!”, my father yelled across the dinner table towards my mother. “he kills people for a living, and you are allowing him to come into the market and shop!” My father’s blue eyes inflamed as he gave “the look”. His glance turned towards me and I…

Covidian Rhapsody I’ve been planting flowers lately It’s all I can think of, to be of some use. I’ve always done this around this time of year I am not rushing to fill in the beds and containers As I usually do. This year, there is no urgency to get…

March 16th of 2021 , during the initial round of shutdowns, I sat down for four months to write the story which I had been prompted to write for over 20 years about how I got started in my businesses. The response ,”you really need to write this story ”…

After a year of writing memoir I picked up a pencil one day, after hours of writing and began to sketch.I’ve always been a doodler, this was different. I learned about shading and overlays. Videos on you tube taught me how tocreate reflections and tears from eyes which looked back at me.Mostly I had no subject matter in mind, no concept or intention of drawing anything particular. I began with a single pencil stroke. Then off of that came feathery short shading linesand random chaotic patterns, sometimes applying morepressure to create depth and contrast. I switched to the 12B in the box of 12 grades of black and moved my hand wildly, over the paper touching down randomly.

It’s always the same scene. Crouched down on the hard marble floor the young boy looks out towards the open carport where his father’s 1965 Cadillac Coupe DeVille is parked. His father stands behind the car, engine running, exhaust spewing out behind him. He is dressed for the office, gray…