“Do you know," Peter asked, "why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories.” ~ J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan


painting walls and changing space

a gallon of paint is cheaper than a shrink and contains dreams we don't know we're dreaming and power and, for me, each brushstroke is a breath in, ommmmmm, a breath out, no thinking and all thinking, just me and the changing walls and the brushstrokes and silence.  i never play music, the same way i never play music when painting a canvas; the rhythm is no one's but mine.

i am not writing right now, and right now it feels right.  right now it feels releasing.  right now it feels like breaking the rules and escape and vacation.  i feel the old stuff draining away and new stuff flickering close to my skin.  i suddenly know the story i must write, but not now, not yet, but soon. right now is about physical spaces and changes and answered prayers and gifts falling into my hands.

august is filling up with all that stuff.
i will be back with tales and pictures.



  1. Even when you are not writing, I love to read your words of notwriting.

  2. yes, me, too.

    i feel it in your voice, the ommmmmm of silence.

    here's to prayers answered and gifts falling

  3. you have just painted something in my soul.

  4. so comfirming to read of your changes: i am making changes, myself.
    see you on the other side of a gallon of paint.

  5. amen to all of the above comments. i will never look at painting a room in the same
    light again. find yourself in the paint.
    in fondest. tilda

  6. i think i need to buy a few gallons of paint and put some life into the rooms that have grown old in our house !

  7. Your words, your ommmmm, feel like home.


come. sit under the emma tree & let's talk. i have cookies . . .