Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Saturday, December 15, 2012


Volunteering for hurricane recovery in the Rockaways was so surreal. After I moved from Shrimp Country, I just didn't think I'd be experiencing devastation like this again. The day filled me with sadness, admiration for the families who were rebuilding, and nostalgia for Shrimp Country. It was and remains an honor to be present to families who have lost so much and accompany them as they begin to rebuild.

Sunday, December 2, 2012

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Yeast Rolls

We call rolls "yeast rolls" in my family. As opposed to? Baking powder biscuits? But those are biscuits, not rolls. Are all rolls yeast rolls?

What are the things that are unique to your family that you've always taken for granted? Have you ever found yourself in the disconcerting position of being caught in an oddity that you thought was common to every family or region? I'll never forget how flustered I got having to explain Philadelphia-style "wooder ice" to confused New Englanders. Then there was the time I told a friend with the flu, "It's too bad you're not at home, where your mom could make you Jello," only to find out he had never heard of eating Jello when sick - a treasured ritual in our family. Puzzling!

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Tuesday, November 6, 2012


Bringing these exploding seed pods into my living room was one of the most fascinating things I've ever done. I bought them for myself, along with some zinnias, to celebrate my birthday.

Over the course of several weeks, I watched the soft and bright pods become more fragile, their ribs pronounced and their skins clouded with yellow. Most of the pods opened, pulling apart and back on themselves as they threw tufts and seeds through the air and onto the floor. They were shriveled, yellow, dark, and dry.  When I looked at the pictures today, there was something poignant about their transformation; something bittersweet about their crumpled fecundity.

Saturday, November 3, 2012

Power Failure

I love this picture, and I almost missed it. Lower Manhattan was behind us as we walked across the bridge, and I wouldn't have noticed the view if my friend hadn't stopped to take a picture.

Friday, November 2, 2012

Silver Over Red

The winds ceased.
We are still locked into stillness.

Sunday, October 21, 2012


In each of these photos except the last, the composition is divided sharply and clearly into broad areas. There is a division between foreground and background, between interior and exterior, and between smooth and dappled textures. The photos were taken in the woods surrounding the Auriesville Shrine, the site where three French Jesuits were martyred in a Mohawk village. The stories and scenes that surrounded the shrine seemed to be divided sharply, too; between French and and Mohawk, Huron and English; between Christian and non-Christian; between insider and outsider; between prisoner and captor.  One from the Other.

In the last picture, in the end, the Light pierces and seeps into all.