The Only Way Out is Through
Blog
Recently, while working our on my treadmill I had a powerful memory come up for me that caused a visceral reaction. It actually made me heave a few times and was enough to stop me in my tracks enou...
"There is fiction in the space betweenYou and realityYou will do and say anythingTo make your everyday life seem less mundaneThere is fiction in the space betweenYou and me" ~ Tracy Chapman
The...
The lake was calm that morning, the kind of stillness that makes you whisper even though there’s no one around to hear you. I sat on the beach not far from my mother reading the latest Judy Blume n...
Lately my mornings have been filled with sorting. I take 1 hour in the quiet morning light and I sift and sort through years of pictures that have come to rest in boxes. Every picture to be scanne...
This morning, as the wind howls moving the icebergs on the lake I sit mesmerized by the details of the quilt top in front of me. It is made up of all the funky fabrics from my childhood clothes. T...
The interesting thing about my life is that I spent the first 50 years selling strength as my best feature. You name it , I could do it. I spent large portions of my time here on earth proving tha...
“Fences should protect, not isolate.” – Bono
There’s a stretch of road outside town where the fences tell stories. Some are sturdy and tall, proud guardians of the la...
“Sometimes the most productive thing you can do is relax.”
— Mark Black
Steam rising over the lip of my coffee mug I could hear my husband ask me what I wanted to do this weekend. "Just relax", w...
She was running late to the social gathering. Being on time was her specialty but tonight she had slowed herself, not wanting to attend the meet and greet event. She had never understood why they ne...
She sat quietly at the kitchen table, her small fingers tracing the wood grain, eyes fixed on the patterns as if they held the answers she sought. Moments earlier, her innocent curiosity had been met ...
A few more steps and I would be home. With blurred vision and blood gushing from my face, my friend had left me to walk home from the hill moments after we rolled to the bottom. She would limp her ...
Anastasia Jorquera
