Fiction is truth with a pretty bow. Within the pages of a book lies the safest place to wander from your conceptual home and see through someone else’s eyes....Read More
My husband and I followed a wall with ivy snaking along each brick until it dipped gradually down, revealing Sorrento a thousand feet below. Through a line of trees, the setting sun glinted gold on th...Read More
June 8, 2014 London. After a final day in London, exploring John Keats’ stomping grounds in Hampstead Heath and then taking a quick peek in the British Museum before they closed; we packed up ou...Read More
June 23, 2014 Sorrento. “You pick up right at eleven and keep till four hours up,” the man at the booth says, lifting his eyebrows like a used car salesman. It’s the evening of our l...Read More
June 16, 2014 6:20am Milan. Lack of food, sleep, bathroom, and direction are terrible things, even if you are surrounded by the grandiosity that is Italy. I always imagined that I would be smiling e...Read More
Arms stretching,                      reaching for the next second An endless parade, moving forward But Pan dances on the face of the clock to mock       the mindless  Â...Read More
June 5, 2014 Kentish Town. Steve and I head out of our B&B like the walking dead. In the past non-stop thirty hours (traveling between three countries), we have slept all of two. But London awa...Read More
June 5, 2014 Heathrow. “So, you know that song “Hit Me With Your Best Shot?” Steve asks as we exit the terminal into the airport. We haven’t talked for about eight hours becaus...Read More
The orb has met its bounds, but what’s left is beautiful- streaks of orange fading to a golden hue mixed with periwinkle… I look out of my shrunken square window past the wing tips up to w...Read More
June 4, 2014 I’m currently on the flight from Toronto to London. The rumble of the plane is louder than I remember; hopefully it quiets down before I decide to get some shut-eye. The sun is nowh...Read More