Autumn 1977 brought dancing, prancing leaves into my life. It was my senior year in high school and I was seated in Mrs. Tankard’s humanities class, which had the reputation of being the most difficult course offered at Chantilly High School. Twice now she had attempted to remove me on the grounds I was not cut out for the academic rigors of the class. And twice my Aries stubbornness kept me glued to my seat, in spite of the nightmares I was having about Sartre, Camus and Shakespeare. Read More
GLOBS OF BLOG
March 30th celebrates the original word processor: the humble pencil. It has all the features of today’s software programs – write, edit, copy, cut and paste, delete – with the additional benefits of being inexpensive, lightweight, extremely portable, waterproof, and able to function without electricity. I wrote my first book and all my early poems using a pencil.
Frankly, there’s nothing more tactile and sensuous than the feel of soft lead flowing over paper. And I love the fact that the pencil allows me to record a spur-of-the-moment thought Read More