Mowich Lake

Mowich Lake

Sunday, April 13, 2014


My mother died in December, but from somewhere she still seems to follow my blog.

When I first started my blog, I thought I would—could—say anything. But being honest and vulnerable was harder than I expected when my mother became a follower. It was far easier to have strangers read my words than my mother. The irony was that I always wanted to be close to my mother. I wanted a mother who asked about my thoughts and my love life. But this was not how my mother was, at least with me.

My mother death was sudden, though her health had been poor for a while. I am still feeling the raw edges of her passing. And I still keep her number in my cell phone, not that I expect her to call, but how can I remove her from the most important list of names I carry? And now, seeing she is still following my blog, how can I not keep posting? How can I give up hope that the words I am afraid my mother will read, she will somehow read anyway, and that in spite of her need to keep a distance and my fear of being seen by her, something good will come of it?

My mom had a really big secret! It shocked us all, though our aunt and uncle both knew, all the older generations knew. Like most secrets, the longer she avoided telling us the harder it seemed to be to tell us. I understand so much more about my mother that I couldn’t comprehend before and I am still hoping my mother and I will move toward a relationship with more intimacy. I would like to be following her and hearing her thoughts and feelings. I don’t expect her death to stop us from a having a growing understanding or closeness.

One setback may be that since she died, the ringing phone just doesn’t have that same insistent tone that forced me to answer, no matter what I was doing. Quite possibly, Mom and I are going to have to find another way to communicate.

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Video Poems

It's been a long time since I posted. I appreciate you all for hanging around. Check out my work from spring quarter last year - I made three poetry videos - one in collaboration with another student. It was an exciting time. I know some of you have seen these already, but I wanted to make sure I posted news of them here.

First up - "Come the Apocalypse" I wrote this poem about a high school friend who committed suicide when we were about 39 or 40. I didn't know this friend that well in high school and never saw him again after graduation. High school was a hard time that I know many of us thought we would not survive. Having survived, it was easy to think it would all get easier, but not for Rod.

I made another poetry video that I never found a title for. I should have just named it for its first line, but I thought it was too long. It's a true story from when I was 20 years old and lived in Seattle. "I Think I Met The Green River Killer" I have to thank Morgan Pappas for starring in my video. She was great.

The last poetry video, or cinépoem, as we actually called them, is titled "Here." This was an inspiring project where my collaborator and I made a list of words and shot some random video clips, and then put the two together. We aren't trying to tell a story, but rather allow the viewer to do the meaning making. Our projects all needed to fall under the themes of social justice and sustainability, so that and length were the only constraints we brought to this piece.

I'm working on more video poems. You can see them here when I do. Let me know what you think! Leave a comment here or on Vimeo. I would love to hear from you.

Sunday, August 12, 2012

Lucky Me!

Lucky me! 

Billy bought me a new camera for my birthday and I have been having lots of fun with it. I love nothing more than just taking pictures of the birds and the bees and the butterflies.

Here's a shot of a honey bee in the Olympia veggie garden. We planted a long row of sunflowers. Just the other day Jackson realized we had robber bees trying to steal honey from the hive! Bill and I went over, and sure enough, you could see these ruthless bees from out of the garden trying to drag the guard the bees away from the door. Bill opened the hive and there is no sign they have made their way in to the gold yet. We're doing everything we can to save our bees.

On a hike up to Upper Lena Lake, Bill and I heard little bird sounds and stopped to watch these little babies just learning to fly! What a sweet moment to just get to watch them struggle to land and balance. This one posed for me quite a long time while I practiced with the new camera.

Thank you Billy!