Minta

I can’t believe I packed and carried a 5 kg/10 pound book and brought it with me on vacation. I who always strive for the feather light, easy to carry luggage. But I am an immutable biography and memoir reader. And not only athletes’ stories.   Immutable, I like that word. It means unchanging over time or […]

Warning: this blog contains some graphic descriptions of violence, only right at the beginning should some readers prefer to skip over it. When I sat down to contemplate this week’s blog, my reverie was interrupted by a familiar and much-beloved voice, one of the comforting soundtracks behind some truly hard times in my life. It

In my busy rock and roll head, songs pop up constantly, often in reaction to something I hear or read. This is no surprise to people who know me, and who are accustomed to my breaking into song inspired by an intruding spark of spontaneous association. Recently I was perusing my groaning, growing pile of

Back when I was in grade school, English class, or classes centered on writing, spelling and literature, were lumped together under the umbrella title of “Language Arts.” What an odd and interesting term. I looked up the Oxford definition and found “the study of grammar, composition, spelling, and (sometimes) public speaking, typically taught as a

I’m still working through the hefty tome of Jim Thorpe’s biography. It is so much more than an athlete’s personal story. It is an education about the Native people in the US, so missing from my public-school history curricula. I do hope that has improved in the many decades since I sat through grade school.

The other morning, I learned a new word. I was elbow-deep in bagel dough in the wee hours. Admittedly I love those awesomely silent insomniac hours when everyone in their right mind is asleep. I do end up sleep-deprived, which I constantly struggle to regulate. But the night sky through our kitchen skylight and the

I remember the first book about anorexia I ever found in my desperate search for help. It was called Addiction to Perfection. It was useless like everything else, but it was slim pickings in those days (no pun intended of course!) It did get me thinking, however, about my perfectionism, not only about my body

I am a hardcore Mac person. I really wish Steve Jobs had not died so soon. Yes, I know he was not a nice person, certainly not to his employees or his daughter. In my customary way, I read a huge biography, watched the bio-pic and read his daughter’s memoir too. Admittedly, I guess I

Sometimes, I feel like the mythical cat who lives nine lives as I think back on my various incarnations, which sometimes seem as if they were not me but someone else. Probably nine is not enough. I remember way back to my ardent activist days when I traveled a good bit in Latin America, I