I can feel the planet churning…

And into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul. – John Muir When I am in the forest in Stanley Park, and sit down on the forest floor, I am acutely aware that I am on a sphere.  In fact, I swear that I can feel the planet churning.  I place…

Death is not the end of the story, but just the beginning.

I am deep into the creative process this morning.  This current drawing is being prepped for embroidery re Molly, a True Crime Analysis as I simultaneously review forensic techniques and review my manuscript.  Multi-tasking. Symbols within the drawing reflect: Genetic discovery, the drosophila, Y-STR haplotypes, the Spiral of Inquiry, the web of intrigue, physical evidence, the…

Beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will or sense them. The least we can do is try to be there.

A walk in the forest August 31, 2013. “About five years ago I saw a mockingbird make a straight vertical descent from the roof gutter of a four-story building.  It was an act as careless and spontaneous as the curl of a stem or the kindling of a star. The mockingbird took a single step…

We wake, if we ever wake at all, to mystery, rumors of death, beauty, violence. – Annie Dillard #graphicnovel #inspiration #forest

I long to fully immerse myself in Molly, to give the project the attention it needs.  Yet at the same time, I suppose, I am fully immersed in it because I am infused with it, even when working on other things and just living my life.  I trust the project has a life of its…