Friday, July 12, 2019


I'm home. My Dad has been traveling a bit and mostly staying at our vacation house in Casper on the coast.

I've got the Yountville house to myself, I can skinny dip and sun to my hearts content!

Nights are lonely out in the vines...very different from the constant noise of a big city, from the continuous availability of other humans.

When you are in a big city, there is no stillness, no open space. There sure is aloneness! All those people and no one to talk to!

Living in the midst of vineyards there are moments of pure stillness, plenty of space, but still no one to talk to!

I'm mostly fine with that. I like aloneness. I've been gardening. Rescued the tomatoes my Dad started. Getting used to the fuller fruit of Napa wines. The killer cannibis..

I'm back on my meditation schedule, morning and evening, 1 hour each. Lazy days.

Now I am starting to think of warm flesh to flesh contact with someone. Someone who thinks, who can chill, and who can tolerate my weirdness! Temporary or long term, gender not too important. That shall be my mission from the vines!

I've been taking nocturnal walks, down the road, cutting through the fields. Animals are out there. I've seen racoons and possum, heard the mice and ducked when a big owl flapped flapped by 10 feet overhead. He lives in some giant oaks nearby. Makes me think of Harry Potter. I await my message!

I could walk naked if I wanted, no cars, no people. Maybe the next full moon..

See you then.



Wednesday, April 10, 2019

Leaving Barcelona

(Click and listen to the music while reading please :)  )

I'm leaving Barcelona. Enough hiding here, from myself, in a vibrant city that does not notice quiet me.

Not that I need noticing, but I do need more connection that I will ever establish on my own, and so far from family and familiar. I need to be somewhere where people have to accept me as I am, home.

My Manic turns no longer strong enough to balance, and dark creeps in.

I need my daddy, and my stuffed animals, reverting to teen me, needy.

I am close to calling an end to calling myself a writer. It isn't easy to spill your life out onto paper, that is what writers do. I haven't had enough life, enough "blues" to spill. Spoiled little rich girl with aspirations above her station, authenticity in paucity.

No, I will still write, just abandon the pretense. Living in an exciting foreign city, in my little atticie apartment, I do play the part well.

My Dad supports me financially along with my Moms money, and I think this is part of the problem. I need to more somewhere MORE expensive and struggle with daily life MORE!

Ideas worthy of words don't come from comfort and privilege. At least that is what I'm thinking.

My brother is in LA. Maybe I'll go there. But it's scary, so big, so much distance between people, cars, hours in the slow lane, hyper-aspirational hard bodies abounding. Maybe not.

New York would be the thing, but would I fit in, little nester me, in a city that is extroverted and intense? No real need to be where publishing happens to write, but the people! Characters, inspiration, rage, all boiling and churning....sigh...the great American novel could write itself on the observations from a stoop...



Monday, April 8, 2019

Donald Reynolds, An Uncaged Mind

Author Donald Reynolds

When I was first putting out my book "Far Edge of Seventeen" I spent a lot of time online trying to figure out how to do it and what other people were going through as a writer. I ran into Donald Reynolds online somewhere and introduced him to my website guy. He had one book out, "Greed, Lust and Vengeance". Now he has four! And apparently two websites; and now

He's got me beat by a long ways! I'd better get busy!

He writes with an absolute air of authority on the subjects he favors, sometimes pretty raw, but always with a lot of humanity.

Give him a read!