Writer | Artist | Adoptee
In December 2019, I signed on to work with Anne Heffron to 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 big... Continue Reading →
"Why can’t our job here on earth be simply to inspire each other?"Graham Joyce
Last week or maybe yesterday, my writing teacher, Anne, asked for a paragraph on what it is like to write personal essays while quarantined at home. Four pages and a glass of iced Effen blood orange vodka later, this is what I sent her. Noting after the fact the "a paragraph" stipulation. She graciously accepted... Continue Reading →
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 →
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 →
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 →
