desk nest shelf

mental health and other creative projects


December 2015

looking back on 2015

Recently I’ve been reflecting on the past year. It’s been a really hard one, maybe one of my hardest. I’m not sorry to see 2015 go. But I have accomplished a lot, and I have some goals for going forward. Continue reading “looking back on 2015”

12 songs for hard days

My iPod died last week. (Yes I know, no smartphone. I’m not planning to get one.) So at the moment, I can’t listen to my music unless I’m home with my computer. Or unless there are musicians at the subway stops where I’m waiting (which there usually are).

Anyway, I wanted to share with you some of the songs I have been listening to lately when I need to feel better. These are songs about pushing through, fighting on, letting go of things that don’t serve you, making time for healing, embracing change.

I’m sure I’m missing some, but these are the ones that jump out at me from my music library. Some are pretty mainstream, some not as much. Some are upbeat to amp you up, some are mellow ranging to dark. I hope that you’ll find something here to you to add your musical self care kit. 🙂  Continue reading “12 songs for hard days”

checking in

Hi friends.

I think most people who write or make art will have times when they wonder why they bother to toss all those little bottles out into the ocean. I often do. Writing for an audience can really draw your insecurities to the surface. I am so appreciative of those who’ve followed my blog and those who pop by. I hope you’ll stick with me for a little while. 

I’ve been taking a bit of an unintentional blogging break. A lot of tough things have been happening recently, so for now I’m just trying to stay on top of daily life things. Continue reading “checking in”


This morning I woke up early. I had hardly slept at all. I walked to the trolley, took the trolley to the train, switched onto a different train.

At the second train station a young man was playing the guitar and singing “And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda.” His voice was strong and clear and vulnerable. The guitar was achingly good. I gave him a dollar, and sat down a few benches away.

After ten minutes my train came, but I decided to wait for the next one. I had time. I wanted to listen to his next song. While I listened for another ten minutes, I wrote him a note. I put it in his guitar case and boarded the train. I saw him pause his playing to reach down and open the note. I watched him read it as the train pulled away. Continue reading “fragility”

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