Bertha Calloway sailing across the great plains: Black History Museum
We cannot direct the wind, but we can adjust the sails.
Founder of the Great Plains Black Museum
We cannot direct the wind, but we can adjust the sails.
Founder of the Great Plains Black Museum
Beautiful multi-media presentation fully worthy of the topic “The End of Suffering.” Brooks Cole who hosts the Thich Nhat Hahn Room introduces it in this way: Very seldom as a media artist do I have the opportunity to be so moved by the material that I am composing with that tears are streaming down my…
Transition is a place all of its own. In between-ness. Being on the move, in motion. Sorting and packing. Yes this/not that. Clearing space, literally, for a new life cycle to follow, the unknown, fallow, yet fertile field yet to be plowed and sown. My studio has become a staging area for my move. The…
This flash fiction of 3 parts, or panels, was originally published in The Portland Review. I’m posting it on Riehlife in three parts. “Triptych: Jeweled Bones” links to an on-going theme of how the land nurtures us as writers and creative people. Arletta Dawdy found inspiration in this piece and I’ll be posting her story-poem…
I propped up my feet wearing socks grabbed from a jumble bin in a thrift store. My socks and I relaxed and listened to the teachings coming in through the closed circuit TV from the ballroom. Afterwards, Bev came over and said, “Let me look at your sushi socks.” Sure enough, there they were…little prints…
The day after Valentine’s Day one bouquet of roses rises tall on my kitchen counter (the long-stems). The shorter-stems reside on a refrigerator shelf, extending their life (shelf life?) and making me glad everytime I open the refrigerator door.
Mother died at 90 last May Day. It seems like an ocean of time and then, hardly any time at all. You can read more about my mother on the “Sightlines” portion of this site on the Sweet Little Dove page including: * Ruth Thompson Life Story * Mother’s Memorial Service And the poems: *Under…