Sadnesses and Celebrations

The dried flowers in the vase on the linen tablecloth promise nothing. On this short day, I gather in. Late fall mornings are proclamations; startling in their chill and barren beauty. Hills of sharp trees and matted grass slide by me. I cannot change the pain of others which persists even as the time ahead for all of us grows shorter. Language amazes me in its intricacies, always providing a way to render even the tragic, bearable.

My collaborative book of poetry with Geraldine Mills, The Other Side of Longing, is out in Ireland and soon to distributed by Syracuse University Press in the United States. It is a beautiful book, graced by Russ' photograph of seaweed colors underwater at Tullen Strand in County Donegal. The collaboration is now a permanent work of art and I feel lucky in many ways. I'm humbled by the opportunity to read, to travel, to continue to grow as an artist.

My resolve is strengthened to make writing central to my life. It is all I can do--observe and render those observations vivid. In this way, I begin to make sense of the resolute screen that breaks my view into tiny squares that are the fragments of a world I cannot control.