The return of the native...

I suppose if I'm terribly lucky, at least one intrepid individual is out there reading this. Because as you, oh lonely reader, know all too well, I have been neglecting this space for some time now.  In favor of?  Well...  Attending to my life. Examining my life. Probably too much, but I'm a chronic ruminator and it's my way....   And so, emerging from a month of obsessing about moral courage in light of the tragedy in Haiti and the death of Howard Zinn, of not being able to figure out for the life of me how to work full-time, be a mother to a young girl, and have any shred of a personal life (simultaneously), and with the realization that I have more interests and longings than one life can possibly hold; I'll edge my way back into this space with a small list of discoveries and a smattering of thoughts. The pile on the table...so to speak (see above.  I'm sure all my dearest intimates can find the secret message in the photo...).

Re Haiti:  Incredibly grateful for this post by Natalie Chanin that spoke to my own feelings of impotence in the face of such overwhelming need, and for introducing all her readers to the work and spirit of the extraordinary Alison Thompson, who is, truly, the epitome of moral courage.  Updates from Alison from Haiti here.


On those days when winter seems too long and reality too harsh, a few fantasies to deliver us...

The Fantasy Retreat.  Either a quick fling. Or true love .

The Fantasy of the Perfect Childhood.  I can't read a word of it, but now I know that Russia must be fairyland. Let's dance.

And finally, a reliable harbinger of increasing temperatures....The Fantasy Man.  Hmmm...let's see.  How about Sam Shepard in "Days of Heaven" circa 1978?

I feel warmer already...