Time was that I could rattle off the election regulations for Georgia – the Republic of Georgia, that is. In 2000, 2001 and 2002, I was in Tbilisi for a month at a time, working with local journalists to help them cover elections. Part of training them about their role in a new democracy was to train … read more Keeping watch
Category: Shelter
The structures that support us, how they protect us, and what is exposed when those give way. Travel as life experience offers dissolution of shelter, both physical and metaphysical – changes in time frames, cultural identity, architectural meaning, technology, tears in the fabric of society
Leaving Fiji
Nov. 1, 1996 – Suva, Fiji The latest issue of the Africa-Carribean-Pacific magazine, The Courier, had country profiles of Mali and Western Samoa. The photos of those buildings in Mali fascinated me, I can’t wait to see them in person – unearthly, built by another species. So many things transcend time and space. And yet … read more Leaving Fiji
The bed’s too big
When we’re staying here in the rental house, I think of Joni Mitchell’s song “My Old Man“: But when he’s gone, me and those lonesome blues collide, the bed’s too big, the frying pan’s too wide… Even when my old man’s here, the bed’s too big. And too wide. Because it’s a king, not a queen. … read more The bed’s too big
Closer down
I stopped by Azalea today, because the decks have been demolished and I wanted to see how that looked. As I turned the corner onto our street, the first thing I saw was that the driveway was consumed by a big yellow dumpster. It’s an odd feeling to see a dumpster in front of your … read more Closer down
That high-pitched noise
The noise started when the heat came on last night. A high-pitched tone that could only be from something mechanical. The kind of noise that makes me crazy. The heat didn’t come on. The registers were blowing cool air. I waited for the air to get warmer. It didn’t. I turned the thermostat’s heat switch … read more That high-pitched noise
At the edge of the pool
There were adults in that swimming pool. Couldn’t they tell the difference between the shrieks of kids playing and the shriek of abject terror from a small girl being chased by a teenage boy? Why did they ignore my cries for help? And some part of me knew that if they didn’t respond while it was … read more At the edge of the pool
The rock slide on Taveuni
Oct. 8, 1996 – Taveuni, Fiji It was so hard to leave the cabina, even with all those spider corpses lying around. A perfect sunrise over the South Pacific, a gentle breeze, clear and bright but not fiercely bright. When the bus pulled up, I was dismayed to see it full, but I managed to … read more The rock slide on Taveuni
The wind
Awake at 5 a.m., I curl up on the couch and listen to the wind hurling acorns against the house like bullets. There is a magical sound among the bangs and booms. It’s the heavy silver wind chime that my cousins gave us in memory of Mom. I asked my sisters if I could have this chime so that … read more The wind
On shaky ground
Friday’s visit to the house was the first time I’d walked out on the lower deck since the tree was removed and broke through it. I thought my feeling of vertigo was strictly emotional. That my sense of the deck as extremely unsafe arose because my own personal foundations had been rocked. It turns out that my intuition … read more On shaky ground
Jagged edges
As I stepped out onto the broken deck, I felt a shifting, an instability, as though the whole house was moving under my feet. Vertigo… the house weaving as though to spin and suck me down into the earth. Though I wasn’t there when the oak fell, the impact hits me whenever I enter the house. We … read more Jagged edges