Once upon a time in Montana: snowbound peaks under stacked lenticular clouds, remembered in watercolor.

After we flew across the country we got in bed, laid our bodies delicately together, like maps laid face to face, East to West, my San Francisco against your New York, your Fire Island against my Sonoma,

Waiting For An Angel - Watercolor sketch – 8 x 11 in. A while ago, I found myself waiting for you in a city on the other side of the world. Rain had fallen for weeks, and even nights were working overtime.

A portrait of Isabel Navarro Sánchez, and the new novel that finally made it into the world.

The fourth in the Green Song sketchbook: Benediction. Watermedia and pencil, 8 x 11 in.

GreenSong #3: pencil, ink, and water media on paper, 8.5 x 11 in.

Around the Winter Solstice a friend gave me a brownish, spherical thing.

Our Greek ancestors would call a time like this an Age of Iron.

This morning in our town I watched an angel and a woman walking on Maple Street.

This Saturday on the 15th of November I’ll be signing and selling copies of Double Vision, Waking Dreams!

During these recent months of life in our “Sweet Land of Liberty,” how many prayers of gratitude do you think God receives?

Long months of living in Spain led me to imagine that Death is Feminine: La Muerte, twin sister of La Vida.

I know the truth.

What is a Vision? Have you ever been struck by one?

My last day in Spain. I didn’t want to say goodbye.

The silver crescent of May’s first moon rises over the valley to the south of the hospital...

Those who were paying attention in 1935 knew that it was a dark year.

One of the pleasures of drawing outdoors is listening.

Nevertheless bridges still enchant me.

After the fall, after you slam onto the cement and sit in shock, immobile, how awful is the damage?