I love to sign my name. I’m in awe of how popular authors manage to sign many thousands of books. Surely you practiced signing your name at some point in your life. I did!
There on the floor, the unexpected. Finding a cat’s whisker is a rare event despite the multiple cats and their multitudinous whiskers. They seem unusually shed but it must happen like any hair, certainly more often than say the kitten’s … Continue reading →
It is something to be deep in the snow in winter, to be deep in the yellow leaves in the autumn, to be deep in the ripe wheat in the summer, to be deep in the grass in the spring. … Continue reading →
When you go out to paint, try to forget what objects you have before you, a tree, a house, a field or whatever. Merely think, here is a little square of blue, here an oblong of pink, here a streak … Continue reading →
There’s nothing that says “Spring!” quite like skunky. Black and white stain on road the blunt, matte smell trailing after the cars. What is that? Oh. Yes. That’s what. Fading at the same speed. It’s the whiff spring keeps on … Continue reading →
If a man hasn’t discovered something that he will die for, he isn’t fit to live.
