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Every once in awhile the top of my head blows off. Then, for the time being, my mind is consumed with its latest creative explosion that generously rearranges my life into new patterns of seeing, doing, being. In the fall of 1997, at the urging of several teacher friends, one of those sustained explosions detonated when . . . → Read More: Explosion


Truth or lies. A lot depends on what we listen to. And that’s especially true for people engaged in the hard work of substance abuse recovery. So our art workshop this week at the Lighthouse was an invitation for each woman to draw a picture of her personal rattlesnake naming the lies it speaks to her with forked . . . → Read More: Ammunition

Fanning the Flame

Recovery is hard work. One usually begins with desperate enthusiasm and skin-deep optimism, especially if they’ve recently hit  bottom wanting to escape the nightmare of substance abuse in its many forms. Often a small flicking flame of hope is their closest companion as they adjust to life in the scary unfamiliarity of a recovery program. That’s usually when we meet . . . → Read More: Fanning the Flame


I live on the edge. Well, I live on the edge of a continent. The edge of a continent that runs east and west rather than north and south along the California coast. And I love the idea that if I were to step into the ocean and swim due south between the Channel . . . → Read More: Horizons