“Once upon a time there was an old woman who lived with her family in a big house on a tree lined street. She spent lazy afternoons sitting on the porch swing listening to music and waving to the passing neighbors who all seemed to know her name. “My daughter always wears that pretty ruffled apron when she cooks and she keeps the house real clean. One

“I Am My Mother” I am my mother She’s a part of me My courageous spirit The best I can be She traveled a twisted, rocky road. No loving spouse to lighten the load. In a concrete city with skies of gray Three hungry mouths to feed each day She did her best, the best she could. Sometimes wrong, sometimes times good. She never gave up, never

So many thoughts So many happenings I drown in them Memories like spawning fish Furiously chase coherency Rising Rebirthing Shifting, Reshaping Becoming A return to the spirit A Return to Innocence

What began as simply creating an art activity in a facility for residents with dementia turned into the direction the rest of my life has taken. When I realized and how dementia eventually isolated them in their own skin when it became difficult for them to express themselves to others, I knew I had to do something more than art. I needed to find a way to

During this quarantine I’ve thought a lot about how the radical changes and forced isolation is affecting people. The Coronavirus has brought the world to its knees and every society on earth is being affected. People are for the most part creatures of habit and when routines are suddenly and forcefully changed it can disrupt the emotional balance. What we believed to be real has been drastically

Here in Costa Rica it gets dark around 5:30 pm and light at 5:30 am, year-round. After 40 years of living in this country my internal circadian clock is set to this. I’m early to bed and early to rise; very early to rise. Around three in the morning I wake up wide awake so instead of trying to get back to sleep, which is impossible, I