Articles about Creativity
“…I began changing my spiritual blueprints, confident that, in time, a shiny “new build” reality would materialize.”
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“Nothing to do. Nothing to think. Nothing but relax. Wait for death’s scoop into heaven’s magic, the best, most free, most silent, most pregnant years of a life brimmed with work and responsibility.”
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Author’s note: Fiction is a mysterious mix of truth and imagination. I offer this fictional story in memory of my Grandma Sandel whose presence at my high school Christmas concerts meant everything to me. A silvery ribbon of soprano, my voice hung in the still air of the high school auditorium. A spotlight illuminated a…
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Our expressions were quizzical. We stared at an 11X14 white paper that had six squares on it, each drawn to look like a television screen. My late husband, Jim, and I were in Cincinnati attending a Reality Therapy workshop with trainer Bob Wubbolding. We had been instructed to create a story board – a visual…
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Languid. Black hole. Exploded sensation. Noisy urgency. Unabashed love. Dissolved. A star was born. My newborn daughter suckled at my breast. She feasted as if there was no tomorrow. Her tiny cheeks puffed in and out, concaved and then plumped, with her efforts to drink me in. Droplets of milk oozed from the corner of…
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“I’ve got a book manuscript hidden in my drawer,” my client said, in an offhand manner. She sat in her office halfway around the world and in a little box on the Zoom screen. She spoke fast. I think she half hoped I wouldn’t catch her words. “Send it to me,” I said. “I’d love…
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I wanted to live in my body. I wanted to live undisturbed by judgment. I wanted to live, untethered.
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I burn to heal, discover and create.
I burn to grey ash, to sticky dust, to gritty sediment.
I burn all that I am not.
Intuition is as right as rain. When it comes to intuition, I’d like it to rain cats and dogs every day. I’d think the sky was falling if I couldn’t sense it. Intuition brought jobs sprinkled with fairy dust. Intuition brought health cloaked in wizardry. Intuition brought loves crusted with sugar crystals. Here’s the deal. …
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As a young woman, I checked my wild creative nature and sexuality to preserve my cherry. Later, I discovered that the hymen was but a crescent flap of embryonic tissue; a remnant that men and religion imbued with high moral meaning. I had two nicknames in high school: “Miss Advent” and “Sassy.” Translation: irreverent and…
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