~eh
Deeper Than Skin
A stranger just suggested I find a “real nice photographer” because the images on my wall don’t do me “justice.” Listen: This person...
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~eh
Unmerited Be The Way
This has been a year of trials. Yes? We can agree? This has been a year when we have been tested, likely in every area of our lives, in...
~eh
Wrinkle of Time
I don’t always see it, but the wrinkle between my nose and my lip reminds me of my grandmother Mary. She had that wrinkle. You saw it...
~eh
An Ode to my Childhood
This is one of the pastures I grew up down the street from. In case anyone ever questioned my farm girl past. It is where I spent most of...
~eh
Blowing in on the Wind
It the is the eve of my birthday and a brisk, whistling wind flutters through my window and tickles my blinds. It’s early, before six,...
~eh
Catching the Dreamcatcher
When I was a child, my family would travel to visit grandparents in Indiana. Along the route were several long, dark tunnels through...
~eh
What's That Word?
My tenth grade English teacher, Mr. Shank, used to describe my writing as “loquacious.” I think also, “verbose.” I always thanked him for...
~eh
Unhurried
Lately I’ve been dreaming about my childhood. I grew up in the middle of farm country in central Pennsylvania, where it was never unusual...
~eh
Attaboy, Clarence.
I can hear Auld Lang Syne playing in the apartment next door. My zip code is in Los Angeles, but the walls in this building are New York...
~eh
Soft Edges
Easter Sunday was cool and gray. Any brightness came from the glare of thick white cloud cover. To be honest, it felt a little like salt...
~eh
Thank you, Leonard
Day 20 of my self-isolation offers a beautiful morning. The sun is bright but not yet imposing. The birds sing. The air is the freshest...
~eh
Day 14
I moved to Manhattan exactly one week prior to the September 11 attacks. A day that most, if not all of us, will remember with great...
~eh
Day 10
Wednesday morning. My Day Ten. It’s still dark outside. Phoebe, my thirteen pound spaniel mix, always finds her way to me sometime during...
~eh
Day 7.
It is Sunday night. Jobless and quarantined, I am sitting at my rickety kitchen table. A flea market find, painted haphazardly with a...