by lori | Jul 24, 2014 | Aging Gratefully, Here and now, Poetry
so many empty plates dishes piled high corks found in corners furniture askew memory too what did I do? beside stained counters trash overflows its cans and there’s pure audacity in that recycle bin what will the neighbors think? candles broke their dams... by lori | Jun 10, 2014 | Caregiving, Here and now, Poetry
Remember as you go to change the world how amazing that new haircut plus the kiss of summer’s first warm rays on your face made you feel. And in feeling just a little bit better about yourself, how aware you became of the sounds of neighbors’ friendly... by lori | Jan 8, 2014 | Here and now, Poetry
I want to be in a place where dogs play off leash where doors are left open and hearts unlocked where neighbors drop by for no reason. I want to be where responding to the whims of weather and ocean is natural where noticing the curve in the crockery the shade of the... by lori | Oct 10, 2013 | Wayfinding
I’m collecting content into our new book today using the itty bitty iPad keyboard because my laptop hard drive crashed and burned yesterday. Crap! Or, as my iPad autocorrect keeps insisting, Veal! Anyway, I’m looking back through all the... by lori | Jul 14, 2010 | FAQ, Impacts, Impacts, Recognizing
You can expect amazing things from these groups, but what those things actually are, you can’t entirely know ahead of time. Think about a self-organizing group that you’ve seen somewhere: like several jazz musicians or rappers spontaneously improvising amazing music...