Monday, May 25, 2015


As I see it.

Monday, May 11, 2015

::Across the Mason-Dixon Line::

Southward, ho! Much-loved cousins to spend time with and greener pastures to romp in for a week.

Monday, April 20, 2015

::Grey & Gold::

Been thinking a lot about how, so often, we see the grey and don't look beyond it to the gold that litters the ground at our feet. In Christ, our feet are already walking a gold road in eternity. Let's not miss the glow of that reality here, in this place, which appears so bleak at times.


Monday, March 16, 2015

::Naming Dragons::

Fairy tales do not give the child his first idea of dragons. What fairy tales give the child is his first clear idea of the possible defeat of dragons..."
~G.K.Chesterton {paraphrase}

Life is full of dragons. They are breathing fire down our necks in ways seen, unseen and somewhere in between. By default, we fear them. Reflexively, we turn from them at a run. Parentally, we fortify our children against them, shielding their eyes from claw and teeth. Unless, of course, we don't.

Trouble has been brewing, and not the lurking, stick-to-the-shadows kind. It is the kind of trouble that has weight and presence, passing through walls and filtering through avenues of word and deed until it finds us. Now that it has, I've had to make a choice regarding the telling of tales, so to speak. Do I look into questioning eyes and give vague non-answers? Or do I name the dragon and hope that by doing so the fire in it's belly goes cold and its claws retract?

I guess what I'm saying is there's a bit of Chesteron in me; scary tales do not give our children their first idea of fear. {They already know what fear is.}What scary tales give our children is their first clear idea of the possible defeat of fear.

Be strong and courageous. Do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the Lord your God who goes with you. He will not leave you or forsake you.
~Deuteronomy 31:6

Monday, March 09, 2015


I love projects. This one was especially fun because I was asked to look through my camera lens at the neighbourhood I grew up in. Hintonburg, you're beautiful.

Saturday, January 31, 2015


his words, a sloppy paint job
spatter the phone at his mouth
and mist the air with ugly

a mother skirts by him, wide
avoiding the spray before it settles
on her young son
after all, some messes stick

a couple abandons food on plate
taste mingled with fumes has lost it's appeal
eyes cut left as they pass at the one-man exhibit no one wants to visit
a Jackson Pollock carnage
the cafe, his purloined canvas

in the spray zone she sits
feeling the pelt of words like Chinese water torture
pondering lips and their poison
and she remembers
that while he sprays words wide and loud
even quiet tongues
are untamed brushes

Friday, December 19, 2014

::So much to take in::

Most years we have a house-full every other day during the holidays, it seems. This year it's relatively quiet around here, which is reflected in the minimal efforts I put into decorating. That said, the extra shine and glitter is unnecessary when my eyes already have so much to take in.