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Unmarked Crossings: a poet and her journeys

Last Night at Kangaroo House, Days Six and Seven

I’m sorry that I played hooky for a couple of days and did not write here at my blog. Two nights ago, I did not sleep well, then did not nap all day so that I would sleep well that night. I did. About ten hours. Yesterday I felt great! Breakfast was marzipan tart, with that great coffee and juice. Cannot complain!  Read More 
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Salon Reading and Day Five

Yesterday, Monday, was a glorious day with sunshine and some very welcome warmth, after days of snow and/or rain and cold. After breakfast and some catching up with my blog, I took a walk to North Beach. The walk was only about the equivalent of three or four city blocks, but it felt good to be active after so many days inside. It was wonderful to, once again, be close to the water. I haven’t lived in Maine for eleven years now, but once one has lived near the ocean, it’s impossible to get the salt water out of one’s veins. Read More 
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Oscar Night and Day Four

I can’t say why, but I am sleeping for nine or ten hours each night here. Perhaps it is the total silence or the nearly-total darkness (I leave the night light on in my bathroom, so I don’t become disoriented too badly should I have to get up in the night). Whatever the reason, I am getting ahead for at least two of my personal Three R’s (Writing, Rest, Rejuvenation)—rest and rejuvenation. I am writing, however.  Read More 
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Day 3, Orcas Island Residency

I spent yesterday afternoon at my window in the library, getting into some writing. Although my project ECHO is mostly completed, there are a couple of poems that have eluded me. One in particular has haunted me since I began this project. The Our Lady of the Angels fire occurred in December 1958.  Read More 
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Orcas Island Residency: Spring 2011

I’m not sure how it happens, but it seems that I often find myself away from home at this time of year. Last spring I was in North Carolina as the inaugural writer-in-residence at Connemara, the North Carolina estate of my fellow Illinois poet, Carl Sandburg. I lived in the Farm Manager’s Cottage, visiting the goats daily and enjoying the spirit of Sandburg to inspire me. Today I am sitting at a large window in the library of Kangaroo House on Orcas Island in Puget Sound, Washington, awaiting whatever delicious-smelling baked goods will be served momentarily and sipping a cup of excellent coffee (it is Washington State, after all!). Read More 
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