Vibrant Inner Structure Can Sustain Us

The pandemic has held us captive for almost a year. We’ve needed to make long-term and on-going adjustments to protect ourselves. As we approach our first anniversary with COVID19, we’ve seen the people who couldn’t cope: the ones in denial who said it wasn’t real, the ones who rebelled and met together in large unmasked groups, …

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Art That Makes Sense

The great American writer and critic, Albert Murray (1916-2013), felt that art should make sense to a person. He believed in artistic struggle and creativity, not as a means to achieve fame or wealth, but as a way to evolve personal order in the world and to comprehend one’s place within it. When I read …

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What do you wish for?

Lorna Simpson, III (Three Wishbones in a Wood Box), and Gary Simmons’, Can’t See Straight, works are dissimilar in appearance. But they unite in concept. Both tap into a human yearning: to believe a wish could be fulfilled. Simpson’s presentation is potent, but aloof. An orderly arrangement of seven wishbones in three vertical rows, invites …

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The Ancient and the Modern: Archipenko and Roman Beasts

Alexander Archipenko’s Standing Figure of a Woman, created in 1930, is sleek and polished. She seems to stand in elegant repose, but, look closely and notice she’s in a contrapposto stance, off balance, one leg in front of the other, as if she’s ready to stride or spring. The sleek, yet organic contours of Archipenko’s …

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Foraging

Foraging is in my blood, as if ancient Hunter and Gatherer genes can’t be denied. At the beach, I compulsively gather interesting rocks and shells. Their designs enchant me, and I rub my fingers over the textures, satisfying something deep within. Four to six inch-diameter stones from my father’s favorite salmon fishing beach, La Push …

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Pandemic Itch

Until the pandemic mandate to avoid touching our faces, I thought I rarely laid a finger on that piece of anatomy other than to apply my daily vitamin E cream.  In accord with a universal truism, the minute something became forbidden, I had to do it. My head seemed to erupt in hundreds of itches …

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Introvert Heaven

Aside from the threat of imminent, hideous death by asphyxiation, I have never felt so supremely happy as during the pandemic. As an introvert, I’d always suffered as an invisible minority, a person who craved quiet in a noisy world. Cities assumed everyone wanted a stadium or a convention center. With successful bond-raising efforts and, …

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