by lori | Apr 19, 2016 | Artists, Here and now, Poetry, Work
accept throwing out everything you knew was true each morning starting again from the beginning or well before then uncertainly receiving just one certainty each day some days, mine is a friend or a warm breeze or a cat other days, mine is a poem or an essay or a book... by lori | Feb 9, 2016 | Here and now, Love, Poetry
blades of green bend low and breathe in damp, the misted seaside glows, fog yellow gray among planked houses, sunlight slants across the field, racing tree shadows tumbling down and softly yield those dry spots are deer footprints strong and hesitant tenderly picking... by lori | Dec 3, 2015 | Essays, Getting Lost, Wayfinding, Writing
After reading yet another repetitive, tired article this morning about increasing my productivity as a writer, I made a vow. As of 10 a.m., December 3rd, 2015, I will never again click on a link promising to teach me about increasing my productivity as a writer. I... by lori | Jun 3, 2014 | Caregiving, Feelings, Here and now, Love, Poetry
You call from the Emergency room at 5:26 a.m. assure me that everything is fine you just woke up out of breath at 4 a.m. heart palpitating in pain. Being just 6 blocks from the hospital you drove yourself there just to be safe but everything is fine. Everything is not... by lori | Mar 5, 2013 | Culture, FAQ
Last week, a lovely researcher named Toni showed up in our space. She’s doing her doctoral dissertation on coworking, studying the ways people who work in coworking locations conduct their work (how they collaborate with others, what type of work groups they are in,...