When Barack (HUSSEIN!) Obama was running for president, a number of naysayers complained that he was part of the Chicago Machine, the enormous gears of power churning within the City of Big Shoulders. I always marveled at that assessment, because from what I could see, Mr. Obama was an outsider to Chicago politics, an unconnected... Continue Reading →
My acrylic socks make my feet snug and happy inside my Keen sandals. When it rains later today, I'll change into waterproof shoes, but right now I'm enjoying the delicious embrace of webbed shoes. There's a bunch of stuff I have done in Oregon that I would never even have considered while living in the... Continue Reading →
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
I don't generally wear necklaces that rest near my collarbone, but I recently bought one that was so pretty I couldn't resist. It follows the curve of the hollow of my throat, just low enough to keep me from feeling constricted. I've added extenders to it, but I'm still not completely comfortable in it; I'm... Continue Reading →
I've spent a lot of time lately with creative people; hundreds of writers at a conference, and in my writers group, and in the seminar I'm attending for teaching artists. And, of course, everyone I work with at Multnomah Arts Center is an artist in their own right; clay and steel and paint and dance... Continue Reading →
Meg Currell 