When I was five years old I was made to follow my daddy around acres of hedgerows, up and over levees, through cornfields and woodlands, an empty 4-10 shotgun in my little arms, a watchful eye on me at all times, ready to jump down my throat if at any moment I became...
I woke up feeling drowsy and stiff and instantly felt Papa chipping away at me, a little at a time. I tried to focus in on what he was working on today. I hear him talking about negative space, revealing the beauty inside, so I keep waiting for him to dig deep enough...
I have on the wall in my therapy office an old African detergent can with a cruddy piece of stick coming out of the top strung with some found wire. Most folks consider it an odd art piece, but in actuality, it is a living life lesson for my musician clients. As a...
Dear Wonderful Readers, I thought for my first entry I would go back to my very earliest writings as a sensitive young teenager trying to put together his first “book.” I laughed as I pulled this out of my treasure trunk of memories, for I truly have not changed much...
My parents were secret agents. I’m not kidding. But the cold war is over now and the secrets can finally be told (keeping in mind, of course Mark Twain’s advice to never let the truth get in the way of a good story). The funny thing is that my parents...
I really feel for mothers, especially for those who have created a brood of young needy ones. It is hard to keep up. With all that is going on simultaneously around a busy house, it is easy for the hardworking, stressed-out mother to get distracted and forget where...