The Art of the Lost Hour
We all grow older, grow up, get stinky, lose track of time. We remember, and then we hold tight suddenly, lamenting. There’s nothing to be done about it at all but this, this one hour outside of time, to celebrate, to mourn, to repurpose into something new that we can hang on a wall to remind us of what was.
Head Stands, a Walk in the Sky
In my teens and twenties, over half a lifetime ago, there was no end to the possibilities for positive personal discoveries. Who me? Play field hockey? Well, I’m not very … Continue reading
Circle Time, My Baby Boy Turns 7
Today is Jasper’s seventh birthday. I actually forgot it was today. It turns out that with planning the big party for a million kids and apparently hundreds and hundreds of … Continue reading
Littlewing, A Mother’s Anthem
Today it was cold, but with the promise of spring. At least that’s what we all told each other. One Mama grabbed me by the arm, literally grabbed me, and … Continue reading
On the Occasion of My 43rd Birthday: The Dave Matthews Prophecy
I was always a jinxie girl. It was rarely the typical signs of luck that got me; black cats, ladders, the number thirteen, stepping on cracks (which may explain why … Continue reading
jen groeber: mama art 