lindawis Curiosity is a writer’s best friend. Ask anyone who has researched a topic for a book, article or presentation. We are drawn to interesting stories, the ones that often come from behind the scene of an otherwise familiar setting. At a writing conference last year, author Colum McCann told the audience how it works for … Read more
This afternoon, I took a walk through my neighborhood, as I do almost every day. The sky was clear blue, with not a cloud to be seen after yesterday’s gloomy day. My neighbors were out and about. A man walked his dog. A woman passing me on the trail smiled and said she hoped the … Read more
The title is a quote from one of my favorite hymns, written in 1976 by Carolyn McDade, called “Come Sing a Song With Me.” When she taught the song at a women’s state prison in Framingham, Massachusetts, she said she had to stop singing herself and listen to the women’s voices. “That song needs context—‘I’ll … Read more
For years, I have been fascinated with the Black Madonna. There are hundreds of images of black Virgins all over the world. The one I know best is Our Lady of Czestochowa in Poland, the homeland of my ancestors. There is a shrine to her there, and also near my home in Pennsylvania. I have … Read more
The other day, I said to my husband, half-joking, “I’m going to be happy before I die, if it kills me!” For as long as I can remember, there’s been a little bit of sadness sitting in the back of my heart. I wanted it to go away. I read lots of self-help books and … Read more
My writing friends and I have been talking about Toni Morrison since her death early this month. Her influence on American letters is gigantic, and many have written about her effect on them personally. I have two small connections myself. As a docent at the historic home of author Pearl S. Buck, I point out … Read more
“Summertime, and the livin’ is easy…” begins the song from Porgy and Bess. Easy for some, right? In my lucky life, summer really is an easy time, even more so now that I don’t have a regular job. I am more in touch with the seasons because I am not preoccupied with earning a living. … Read more
I worry about my landscapers. Once a week, a white flatbed truck pulls up on our street, delivering riding mowers, grass trimmers, short Hispanic men and one white guy, the obvious boss. They spill from the truck like bees, everyone in a hurry. At different seasons they come armed with gas-powered leaf blowers, jugs of … Read more
A few days ago, I ran screaming – in my head – from a quilting class. It all started last winter, when I signed up for three classes at my favorite quilting store. The first, on machine applique, was fun. I made a small wall hanging for my kitchen, three chickens cut from scraps of … Read more