Archive | March, 2012


The sweat dripped off the shirt. The word written across the back of the shirt said BRAVE. Brave. When was the last time you pushed yourself into brave territory. Do you see it during the day? Are we all just playing it so safe? What would brave territory look like. Say what needs to be […]

Read full story Comments { 0 }

Going Back Home

The two motorcycles turned down the street heading to the first house that the riders ever owned. That is the thing about motorcycles. They go up and down streets and back and forward through time. We stopped in front of the house. It has been over 30 years. The house looked its age. But to […]

Read full story Comments { 0 }

What Makes You More?

Something about the prayer flags that touch me. The colors. The gentleness of their movements in the wind. The words embedded in the flags. Just the idea. Prayer flags. A home surrounded by prayer. It brings me back to our last day in the Himalaya mountains. At Namche the Sherpa bowed, wished us peace and […]

Read full story Comments { 0 }


Change. How do you handle it. Change. A shift in a life. We get so comfortable with things but everything is always changing. What is that old line…the only thing that is constant and unchanging is that there is always change. So fasten your seat belt. Grab the popcorn. Let go of stuff and hold […]

Read full story Comments { 2 }

What’s Your Story?

I can’t see his face. He is turned so I only see a profile. His cowboy hat covers his eyes. But he is not a cowboy. His shirt sleeves are rolled up. The fingers of his hands are in his jean pockets so you can still see his hands. They are rough. Used. Weary hands. […]

Read full story Comments { 0 }

Frozen in Time

The photos are a mixture of faces, places,events and changing times. There are probably over 60 separate pictures living together in this one frame. All frozen in time yet very much alive right now. From first dates to wedding moments to scenes of soulful dreaming to the joys of young adventurers to parents and children. […]

Read full story Comments { 0 }


She put on her ballet slippers and went to her first dance class. She loved it. She tried so hard. She laughed. Giggled. And couldn’t stop chattering about it all all the way home. That is what innocence looks like. Pure innocence. Nothing like it. Blinding white innocence. How long does it last. When I […]

Read full story Comments { 0 }