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Dear You: The Artist to her Masterpiece

I dreamed what I would first say to you on a hot night in August. I woke up with the words on my tongue and felt a strange sense of knowing about them. Since there are millions of words and an infinite way to arrange them, I needed to be sure before I struck pen to paper. It was intensely important that my first words (ones you won’t read for years) actually said something. And this waking dream was my sign.

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On Going Home

I have a mild obsession with words. Okay, scratch that. I am obsessed with words. I love nothing more than to learn a new word, especially so if that word becomes a part of me or seems as if it’s a word I have always known. That’s exactly how I felt when I stumbled across the word hiraeth…

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Remembering Oregon

Yesterday, I got to wake up and live an uneventful, pleasant day. I was smiling and laughing and teaching at 10:30 a.m. Last night, I got to close my eyes in my own bed and fall asleep as I listened to my husband read a book aloud. Then, I got to wake up this morning and breathe. I felt my body ache as I rose out of bed in the dark and rubbed my tired eyes. Then I got to greet the day… But not Oregon.