START …. Hello! …. STOP …. I am away scouting on the dark side of the mountain …. STOP …. It is very crowded …. STOP …. The temptation initially was to blend in …. STOP…. Thought I was traveling light but immediately became snagged in my own underbrush …. STOP …. Continuing on now but have had to leave my pack and all supplies behind …. STOP …. Night and day do not divide here …. STOP …. So far dreaming has been easier than trying to see in the dark …. STOP …. Something I wrote once has become useful …. STOP ….. “I don’t need eyes to hear light”…. STOP…. Listening now for sonic blooms  of  light …. STOP …. I can see I’ll be offline for awhile …. STOP …. It is good to know you beautiful people are all here being creative …. STOP….. Sending my love, Jana  …. FULL STOP




Rooted in the Greek word for “riddle”

I steady myself

in the middle of the stream

So much rain

I wish I’d worn back straps on my flip flops

standing in the strong current


 I’ll not wander in the side eddies

where the slickest algae

coats the surface of the stones

still idling there

passing time as if singular

feigning reflection

 an intoxicated accumulation

of over fertilized organic matter

 girdling themselves

as if they could hold on to the ground


My days have been emptying

full of the feeling that I’m living

in two separate realities

  More than a waiting game

too much hard evidence

A pack that needs to be cleaned out

and made into a traveling case of essentials

fit for lifting off and moving

in even faster flowing water.



photo credit: Russell Tomlin Flickr





I don’t fear melting into this earth.

 Each morning

I wake into the air

I do not rise      I do not move

I do not open my eyes

until my nose has sensed persuasion

my tongue has tasted sweetness

and my ears have heard the world


I was a child with dreams of becoming

Now I am older with dreams of being



Nothing and everything is changing.

I am like a snake shedding its skin


biting its tail


erasing  the lines

of time




that yearns

to be a flower


the ephemeral language




import 1 007            


Painting by © J H White

Neon New Year


                                               Facing the window overlooking the garden

                                               I am blindfolded,

                                               a veil over my eyes.

                                               Taken into this darkest of rooms, I wonder

                                               If I am blindfolded…how am I seeing in this darkness?

                                               My heart has been opened Continue reading




                                     All you see is the glow from the warming fire

                                     The cold night

                                    the bright moon

                                    your breath in the air


I often pull myself together in the YWCA pool, swimming laps… water therapy. I joined the Y initially to cure my fear of deep water. I can float and swim but for some reason when I try to tread water I sink to just above my nose. For months I dangled around in the deep end with a very large floaty. Then I discovered swim fins. Continue reading