The Tyranny of Language
Orwell thought muddled language led to muddled thinking. In a climate of overheated rhetoric in the public discourse, his message still resonates.
The Artist’s “WE”
The worst thing about a slump, a bout of writer’s block, a dysthymic interlude–whatever you choose to call it–is that it’s lonesome in there. No light penetrates the Chamber of Self Torture, and the only sound is a drip-drip-drip of wasted time leaking out and the ominous hissing of something very nasty there in the…
Crafting through Scroogery
To my mom’s great sorrow, I’m not a big fan of the whole Christmas thing. For one, I’m possibly the one female on this planet who hates shopping, especially in December, when our fellow man goes all frenzied and glassy-eyed and stores insist on broadcasting looped recordings of “Grandma Got Runover by a Reindeer.” I hate…
The Resurrection of Cactus Man
In the beginning, Cactus Man was mine. Now he belongs to everyone…or at least, to the very unlucky.
Art Is Long. Life Is Short.
FRAMED: WORKS BY ERIN BRADY WORSHAM November 13 & 14 at Studio East, 1520 Woodland Street When John Guider and Stacey Irvin (two highly talented photographer friends of mine) tell me I should go and see an art show, I listen. They can’t say enough good things about Erin Brady Worsham, an artist they’re featuring at…
Unexpected Tailwinds
You don’t always realize it right away when the wind swings around on you. A number of life’s big changes are wind shears–sudden and sometimes catastrophic. But more often, it seems to me, your journey shifts imperceptibly, a strengthening crosswind gradually changing your course. My first Women in Aviation, International conference, a gathering of thousands of…
The ABCs of Loss
When people we love die, we move on with life, because we have to. The closer they were to us, the longer it takes. But eventually, life’s dailiness takes over: we set the alarm each day, pour cereal, prune shrubs, feed the cat. But the absence casts a shadow, the colors of things are ever…
Behind the Story – Kate Mills’s “Broken Compass”
The minute I walked into Kate Mills’s Inglewood house on a hot morning last July, I knew we were going to “get” each other. First of all, she had a bagel from Bagel Face ready to go, just for me. Such things never fail to impress. And then there was the house itself:…
The Greenery 