Tell me what you feel in your room when the full moon is shining in upon you and your lamp is dying out, and I will tell you how old you are, and I shall know if you are happy. —Henri Frederic Amiel

The hat, the rope of pearls around her ropy neck. There’s a story here.

Longing to return.

Funny and sad; so telling of where we were headed … living automatically. Let’s not, okay?

Amid the books are two photos of Mikhail Baryshnikov, one of the most charismatic people I’ve ever met.

The boy’s surprise at catching the sun sleeping — that, I want to feel that.

When an oysterman says, “Going to haul” he means the weather is going to change. (Chesapeake Bay Museum)

My youngest says the white v’s on a four-leaf clover show up as a diamond rather than a triangle. When she walks, she’s looking for diamonds. And she finds them. A lot of them. (from LUCK)

First gift from the man I married. He got me from the start.

1512 rendering of bird’s wing.

Tell me you wouldn’t follow the arrow if you happened upon this sign along the road. I would.

You’ll find her in Conjure, Silver, my illuminated novel.

Controlled clutter includes things I cannot live without: red china marker and paintbrush eraser.

My office companion, who swears like a sailor if her dinner isn’t served promptly at 5:30.

The only flowers I can grow.

Colour itself is a degree of darkness. —Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

We ought to do good to others as simply as a horse runs, or a bee makes honey, or a vine bears grapes season after season without thinking of the grapes it has borne. —Marcus Aurelius

I want one of these!