[…] a Sacrament Meeting which led me as a teenager to engage in critical self-examination and to leave the meeting with high resolve. Despite the nervousness and excitement I felt in getting married, I still […]
Corn grows in my father’s backyard garden in ten green files, each row a week taller, the tallest now past two months, nearly ripe. The years he’s planted gardens range beyond the year that […]
Adlai Stevenson died in Palermo. In the airport. His face was pasted On the newsstand, bobbing in and out among Jabbering Sicilians, their sweaty hands Sticky with orange soda pop,
We laughed in the temple and found favor where the Lord lashed with lightening and laughed too when he saw the size of salvation.
The fault line shifts, subterranean conflict rises. Granite knitted together in heat and compaction,
The sun is four hours high. The air is starting to stir from the south, heavy and dry with sun.
[…] back to my own clinical training I remembered that no one had ever really warned me about the problems that transference and counter-transference could get a psychotherapist into (i.e., getting emotionally or otherwise involved […]
Still you come to me in the night Walking with bare feet whispering And still you force me to come round corners that could wait, To face a minor premise I am avoiding.
To write a musical play based on any church theme or motivate will inevitably invite comparison with the “Father of Us All,” Promised Valley, written by Arnold Sundgard (lyrics) and Crawford Gates (music). Promised […]
[…] to Hollywood that she turned, and not to the false glamour we are known for around the world. Instead she focused on the kind of women she, as a liberated woman, felt made America […]