Words

This section is still in development as I think my writing will always be.

Currently I am working on a series of stories about Tegan - a not me/me character of my imagination.

This was Tegan: red hair, brown eyes but her hair wasn’t really red. It was just what people said it was. It was the way they described her - the red headed one. They laughed at the temper it implied because they never heard Tegan angry, never heard her raise her voice. To them Tegan was the shy one, the wife of, the mother of. Expectantly overweight but not yet fat. Perhaps kindly: full figured, perhaps unkindly: chunky. In her mind Tegan was freer moving and what was the word she liked? - "lithe". She also like the word “deft”. She wanted to have deft hands, deft creative hands but she suspected no one noticed her hands. What people noticed was her hair. What she wanted people to notice was her art work. At the same time she feared it because it meant they were looking at her in a different way. From the inside out. Tegan always felt her work turned her inside out like a frog on a dissecting table.

Also in the works: poetry.
In process - new works in and around the island/ocean landscape

in this new place
ocean cradled
lulled by waves
white wind edged
always moving
I search for a place
to put down roots
through salted rocks and soil

here cedars lead by example
deeply rooted they defy
what the ocean throws at them
choosing to wear
the fog like a lace shawl
they host eagles
ravens
make suggestions
of height
to an arcing moon
bellow back at the wind

these trees are my mentors
heros of root and branch
even truck loads
of their nude bodies
cannot keep me
from striving to reach
their heights