2020: A Year to Memoir Project

In December 2019, I signed on to work with Anne Heffron to help coach my writing into something, hopefully, resembling a memoir. We began in January, talking almost weekly for the last six months about process and personal truth and good storytelling. Today July 1 - the halfway point - writing something still feels very... Continue Reading →

"Why can’t our job here on earth be simply to inspire each other?"Graham Joyce

Nostalgia Table [Nov. 2019]

Thanksgiving will be small but not infelicitous. Which is to say there will be just three of us seated at the table, not the double-digit chair count of my childhood or some of the years during my time as a Wife. Though several others were invited, they've all found holiday homes for the day and... Continue Reading →

Not breathing too much.

We're not supposed to disrupt your life. We're supposed to fit-in beautifully. Fill a gap, a hole in your heart, in your life. find object, 2020d. j. dawson (b. 1963)mixed media on vocabulary card3 x 6 inches (approx.) Baby caulk. We were in need of rescue, shelter, family (which we have before we meet, by... Continue Reading →

Hericane. [sic]

In pre-dawn stillThe wind comes once everyThree minutes, bellowing deep in the treesSlow, picks up speed, then stops. dark ghost trainwinds down, swapping arrivers fordepartersWhose gossamer trench coating shuffle wetLeaves adhere, our front window stained Chapel glass between worlds. Warm and dry,tamed storming, unpredictable rowdyTimetables of bluster and agenda, measures of syncopated nature, theruthless spiced... Continue Reading →

Ghost.

Cold Spring Harbor, 2016d. j. dawson (b. 1963)digital photograph, unaltered The last, and only time, she wrote was January of this year. It was as though she accidentally included me on an email with photo attachments, that's how odd and out of left field. But, it was family-related and it was sweet, baby birthday photos... Continue Reading →

Filling in the blanks.

One of the things adopted people lose through adoption is, most obviously, their family. This is the not-a-happy-ending side of things no one talked about, at least not until recently. As adopted people - or unwanted babies and children, as most of us began life as someone's shameful problem to solve - we were told... Continue Reading →

Balancing Act.

Somewhere between being born and being adopted, abandoned people learn that being pleasing means you're less likely to be left behind (again). If you're funny or engaging, kind, people might like you - you might even make some friends. If you're funny or smart or have some special talent or hobby, you might find your... Continue Reading →

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