4 am and music is playing, the wind howls, shaking the windows, the curtains, a window slams in the other room. The music is coming from outside, wafting in, piano and cello, but the wind abbreviates it’s phrasing, and the window crashes like a cymbal and I am asleep again. One time in Florence we[…]

I paint alone, I write alone, I bake bread and work in my garden alone, and find solitude as essential to my being as food and water. But when we come together as a small group, three to thirty say, or more even, around a finite creative practice, something else as deeply integral to my[…]

In the morning Tom goes out for an early walk then brings home croissants from the pasticceria on the corner. We drink coffee and talk about where we want to go today. Then we lace up our boots and head out for a walk around the island, astonished at the wild surf and deep green-blue[…]

Last year my wild yeast starter was accidentally tossed away. It took me a year to summon the energy to begin a new one. Did I have the time or attention for daily feedings, maintaining a constancy of nutrients and the proper temperature? I didn’t think I had it in me last year. But this[…]

Italy changed me. And I wanted to be changed. I went for the first time when I was thirty, my son 11 years old, my daughter five. I wanted to connect with the creative source that had nurtured so many of my favorite artists, and to restore some of the broken branches in my family[…]

In Spannocchia the fruit trees are blooming, small pink blossoms with petals that fade to white, crisscrossing the sky as though making miniature blue panes of stained glass. One morning after walking I took a hot bath in the big tub in my room, the fragrant soap frothing up into iridescent bubbles. The morning walk,[…]

The path of stones is crowded with wild parsley, yellow sour grass, pink and magenta sweet peas, prickly pear cactus. The stones are uneven, the path built on an ancient trail dating back a thousand years. At the end, what will we find? There are many stories, but the one I like best includes a[…]

Some days ideas crowd around struggling to get my attention. Other says I have set aside the time for work and there is only emptiness. Beginning – even setting a loaded brush to a fresh canvas or pen to paper with absolutely no idea in mind – is a daily practice that short-circuits the second[…]