Throwing Stuff Overboard


High School






marriage,  divorce,  marriage, child, divorce


Grad school, career


Child leaves home






Continue reading “Throwing Stuff Overboard”

Staying Tuned to The Muse


“Wild Birds in My Head”  by the author

I’m always staying tuned for ideas (see my post “Where my Ideas Come From”  ) but sometimes they pursue me- relentlessly.  Think about wild birds flapping in your head endlessly or like someone tugging on your apron strings constantly.  Yes, the ruckus will go away eventually, but not entirely.  The inspiration will just go to someone else to be manifested and then pretty soon your muse will give up on you all together and you will be very lonely.



The poem tugged on my apron strings

Begging for attention

When I ignored it

It crept into the kitchen of my mind

Rattling the pots and pans with such a clatter

I could bear it no longer

“Stop!”I cried

“Don’t you know I wasn’t an English major?”

“Find someone else to write you!”

But the poem persisted with such a fuss

That I relented,

Sat down and wrote it,

Then kicked it out the door to the internet

Sighing with relief

Until I felt another tug

on my apron strings.

Liebster Award


One of my fellow bloggers & blogging friends, Louise of Louise In-Btween nominated me for this award a couple of weeks back.  It is sweet to recognized and know that someone out there finds value in my words and images.  I started a writing practice in late 2016 and shortly after this blog in 2017 with few expectations.  All I knew is I wanted to express myself in words and images.  WordPress became the perfect venue for that. What I find!  Blogging is like putting your handprint on the universe.  I write for no reward other than my own satisfaction.

I’ve noticed blogging awards here and there and have been wary of them.  After researching them a bit, I decided to go with the Liebster as is an award given by a blogger to bloggers with fewer than 200 followers, with an aim to help others discover and spot new bloggers.

Continue reading “Liebster Award”

Untold Stories

Upstairs in my studio is a jumble of old photographs and boxes of slides from my youth in shoe boxes beneath a work table.  Those of you from the “pre-digital” age might relate to this. When my son was born over thirty years ago I changed my ways and carefully IMG_0067documented his life and our life as a family in tidy photo albums- until he left home.  Currently, my photos are all on my cell phone or floating in “The Cloud.”  Now and again I think that I should go through and sort out my old photos into albums.  But then I ask “Why?” I’m not famous.  I have no grandchildren.

They have no meaning other to myself and will mostly be recycled as with my physical body.  Maybe if I’m lucky some will wind up in some artist’s collage.

Shoe Boxes

When I die he will find them

Decades of my life

Stored in shoe boxes upstairs

Hundreds of captionless photos tucked in envelopes

Slides stacked neatly in folding Kodak boxes

Captured by a cheap camera

In eager hands

They illustrate the stories

That have largely gone untold

The forces of my life

That sanded me smooth on the inside,

Carved on the surface

Experiences of a young woman

Seeking adventure

And a place at the world’s table

When he finds them

He will see a younger me

With unnamed friends and unnamed lovers

Unnamed mountains

Unnamed rivers


He will see walruses basking on rocks,

But not hear their music

Cabins, but not feel their warmth

Trails, but not know their destinations

My stories will die with me

Melding into the ethos

He will never know my joy

My youthful dreams

My pain and disappointments

The person before Mother

The me before you

Growth – My First Anniversary of Blogging

Growth drawingI you are into gardening you know that to stimulate growth, a shrub needs to be pruned.  A plant subjected to stress is stimulated to flower.

Originally my intent for this blog was solely to promote my artwork.  The events of this last year changed all that.  After the 2016 election, I was devastated. My mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s in February.  My father passed away in May.  Disasters, man-made and natural, plagued my psyche.  I became blocked as a visual artist.  Then, I put promotion aside and began to write poetry and began my blog .

When I signed up for WordPress I wasn’t expecting more than just a platform to just plunk things online.  I found community, I found like-minded people all over the world.  I found hope, motivation, & inspiration.  I’ve grown as a writer and as a blogger. Two of my poems have been selected for publication.  There are followers on my blog and I follow the blogging journeys of others.  Finally,  It’s taken me a year but I have finally shed my fear and have started to create with heart again.

In the darkness I have grown. Through hard times, I have begun to flower.


Paying Homage to a New Year

calendar-3042204_1920This is a reblog of a poem I wrote for New Year’s Eve last year when my blog was brand new and had few readers.  I read it at a gathering of friends. We were all still reeling from the presidential election fallout.  As the poem as it was read caused a hush in the room.   Later, several friends told me how much it meant to them.  Feel free to share this at your gathering on this New Year’s Eve as we hope for change in 2018.  What better way to start the New Year than with poetry?

On This Last Eve

There are no more squares to fill

Nor pages to turn

Nothing can be changed

But how we act tomorrow

And how we think about the past.

It is done

A tapestry of memories woven in our minds

Events left to history.

In the morning

A new calendar will grace the wall

Waiting to be filled with commitments & adventures.

Let the glasses clink with their bright sound

Among this circle of friends & family.

Let us toast to the warmth of love & friendship,

A better tomorrow

& the chance to begin again.


Celebrating Winter Solstice 2017

sunrise-1756274_1920Here we are, December 21, 2017, the shortest day of the year or the longest night depending on how you look at it.  For centuries ancient peoples have celebrated this event.  It is a time of reflection and hope.  The light will be returning again.  It is no accident that Roman Emperor Constantine in 336 AD chose Christ’s birth to be celebrated around this event.  Before this date, there was no history of Christmas being celebrated, but there were festivals around the Winter Solstice. (For an interesting history of Christmas click here).

My long-time women friends and I had our annual gathering yesterday.  We shared a meal, poetry, and stories together.  As usual, it was lovely.  Here is a poem I wrote for the event…


The pages turned

one by one

and we’ve arrived at the end again

to the longest night, the chill of December

finding its way through our thick clothing


It is in these darkest days

we find each other

gathered in the warmth of our homes

sitting around cheery tables and sparkling trees

enjoying the warmth of the hearth

leaving what we cannot control to its fate.


Revel in the music

Enjoy the fruits of the kitchen

Marvel in the twinkle of the colored lights


For the flowers lay sleeping

beneath their earthen quilts

waiting to be tended

when the light finally returns



by Alanna Pass