Flâneuse is a word I’ve always loved. It has such a different connotation that its Baudelairean counterpart Flâneur. I’m pretty sure that the French poet hadn’t intended the whole flâneur thing to be a feminine pastime. Baudelaire’s The Painter of Modern Life relays the nature of wandering without intent—for men. However, the Flâneuse is not…
Sacred space: two words I spent a lot of time with even before I found myself gifted with a ticket to see Elizabeth Gilbert speak last Friday in Vancouver. My kids know not to pass beyond the sacred shroud (a curtain that divides my office from the rest of the house) when it is pulled….
I love poems about light. It is one of those remarkable, ever-changing elements that produces some of the most magical and emotional experiences. In the last few years, walking has become my form of divination. It is the place where I do my best creating, listening to trees and the ground. Watching for the hawks…
Growth is hard work. That’s something I think no one can deny. Anything that allows us to shift and get stronger is a slog in the middle. I found myself resuming the required work of that lesson recently. After the terrible winter we had, I lost one of my massive beloved raised container gardens to…