The full body flight suit I wore was blue, puffy, and unflattering. The helmet tightened over my head, the goggles beetling my eyes, and straps harnessing my chest, my crotch, my waist, my wrists. No one said skydiving was going to be pretty. Actually, no one said it was going to be fun…
This week I have been struck by inspiration. Not mid-yoga pose, nor ambling down a sunset beach. But somewhere 36,000 or so miles above the ground, seated tightly in the middle seat of coach, soaring towards Los Angeles. Inspiration struck then. And it struck me in a way that might interest a few of…
Nearly every morning, I sit on my back porch, a hot coffee in my hand and my little cat Tino sitting somewhere near, scanning the shrubbery for critters, and I write. Sometimes I write about my dreams from the night before. Sometimes about my plans for the day ahead, capturing these thoughts in ink…