I nominate the eclipse as the defining event of the 2020s. Call it the “Totalicade.”

A book I first read at age four or five and have returned to often since is The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.

We’re living in dark times.

This March, I celebrate Michelle and all of the history-making women in the Vermont Legislature, along with the female constituents whose wisdom I listen to.

Do peonies suffer imposter syndrome? I started wondering about this when Sallie told me last summer that peony buds can’t open without help from black ants.

Doug Root was a man of few words and on most days, even fewer.

Should I suicide? No. I never will. Not because I don’t have hard thoughts.

“Did you hear about the Polack wolf stuck in a trap?”

For reasons that remain a mystery to me, Polacks and blondes were the butts of all jokes in my grade school in Schuylerville, N.Y. I heard violence against women and Poles like this and worse twenty times a day between art class and gym.

“That’s where there’s been a lot of healing for me,” my friend Julia Chase told me yesterday.

These days, the Book of Luke has been contrasting in my mind with the Book of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

“Your dog out-ranks you by one,” said Corporal Dave Robinson at Sunday’s Vets Town Hall at Brattleboro’s American Legion.

I haven’t seen Patience since high school, but she’s been cemented in my memory since 3rd grade with the peace symbols.

Having keys in a prison makes you a target for violence.

This wouldn’t be a ghost story if it had a solid conclusion. But I pray you heed it well.

The most important part of my reality may sometimes be the thing that I most take for granted.

Here's a snapshot of one moment last week that encapsulates why I've been pouring energy into email/blog form.

The faults in American history aren’t a reason to turn away. They’re a reason to show up. They’re a reason to say, “We are strong enough to face anything.”

“AI can now make a perfect painting,” an artist friend told me. “How can you make a living?” I asked.

In my experience, where there is joy in achievement, it’s not because it fill’s one’s cup of self-worth.

Thoughts said out loud become dialogue. Dialogue becomes action, a journey taken together.