
The White Rows
I did not know what they meant. A girl of 14, truly away from home for the first time. They were simply subjects in my frame, a girl shaking the disposable camera entrusted to her for the first time.Continue reading “The White Rows”
I did not know what they meant. A girl of 14, truly away from home for the first time. They were simply subjects in my frame, a girl shaking the disposable camera entrusted to her for the first time.Continue reading “The White Rows”
There was a girl who binged TV a lot. Her mother said her brain would rot. “Don’t worry, Mother, you’re thinking of my brother, who became an alien robot.” “No, I didn’t,” my brother cried. “I only used them to catch a ride! “Mother looked down, face all afrown, to see the snail that had replied. Continue reading TV Rots Your Brain
Everyone sees something different depending on where they are looking from. Continue reading Looking At The Future
Ask children what they want to be, the answers will vary tremendously...Continue reading “Childhood Dreams”
leading to nowhere, linking one corpse to another, sinking into muck, lost and forgotten, peeking through the surface, rotting away, leaving only slivers behind. No longer raised high, providing safe passage… Cluttering the ground, tripping men in their tracks, all sense of purpose gone. Once a means forward, pushing higher ground, a path to victory, just beyond the next trench… That promise shattered, shrapnel scattered … Continue reading Broken Bridges…
A few of the stories I found in frozen faces sculpted by John Lajba as part of the Victory ’95 50th Anniversary World War II Memorial in Heartland of America Park, Omaha, Nebraska.
Continue reading “Stories Frozen in Statues”For a country the size of the state of Iowa, one month isn’t enough to even scratch the surface… Continue reading “My Conversation With Ireland Now Available!”
His last elevator ride. That’s what Mom said into Dad’s shirt, As he was raised just a few feet from the ground. His last journey needs strong legs and heart for the climb. I heard of purgatory in school, it’s where you wait for heaven, You make up for your misdeeds and sins against your neighbor, But for me purgatory is the long climb up … Continue reading His Last Ride
Art: the doorway to our fantasies… Continue reading Threshold