These are the beginnings of a song for Ukraine: (you'll have to scroll down) 

Colours 

Yellow blue sunflower sky 

Mother country father child 

Land home time grown 

tongue faith life space 

White blue red snow sky blood 

Mother history father child 

hammer sickle 

power mad power's death 

Nations watch 

Eggshell step, 

Scarce is breath 

Kyiv is born subway floor 

redsoaked car blown out door 

interpreter weeps words 

resolute hope in vain 

Myth still holds David and 

Goliath meet stainéd field 

…

January 31, 2022 

Sometimes I think the creative process is like an experimental batch of sourdough bread. 

I tried very high hydration – 80-85% - and wound up with an extremely loose and sticky dough, just beyond the consistency of batter. I could only do the first folding with a wide spoon. It would not let go of my fingers. 

There was a point where I was actually afraid of it. 

But you have to let it rest and let the chemistry of the gluten and the biology of the bacteria do its work. Let it sit and let…

 December 21, 2021 

This solstice is a time of both darkening and quickening, the cyclical plunge as the sun dips his toe into the abyss and then pulls it out again for yet another round of providing, uncaring, warm and plasma in the absolute zero of space. The astronomical I Ching.  

We live on this pea-sized blue-green jewel bathed in the elusive illusion of our own importance. We are infinitesimal, and our lives are as small as the time it takes for light to cross an electron cloud. Almost, but not quite…