2Am On Christmas Morning
Our middle child is sick. We are both still up at 2am on Christmas morning, trying everything in the book to get her to sleep so we can sneak a stocking into...
Recent Posts
Christmas Shopping
After W finally arrived home from getting her hair cut this morning (it somehow took 4 hours), I raced out of the house with our eldest to go Christmas shopp...
The Saturday Before Christmas
It’s been a few days since I emptied my head into the computer, and I have little to do this morning (waiting for the dryer to finish a load, while the rain ...
Marilyn Monroe
Once upon a time I went to college, and spent two years drawing people every day. One of the projects intended to fill our head with ideas was “Pop Art”we go...
Beauty
Beauty isn’t on the cover of a magazine, or in the flickering image from a cinema projector.
Starbucks
For many, I don’t think the appeal of Starbucks is the coffee itself. It is the escape; the “other place” we might go, leaving the shackles of our normal lif...
On The Road
While wandering the streets of San Francisco about ten years ago, we happened upon City Lights Bookstore, the legendary haunt of Allen Ginsberg, Frank O’Hara...
Olympians And Porn Stars
I noticed something rather odd recently. I’m not sure if I noticed it because we have rapidly growing children, or because I was in a more observant mood tha...
A Happy Place
The children have become my happy place. Perhaps they always have been. While they push boundaries, press buttons, and explore limits on a regular basis, the...
The Butterfly Effect
I first experienced the writing of Ray Bradbury while at school - a chance english exercise, reading a collection of short stories called “Golden Apples of t...