Category Archives: my life

Ain’t No Grave

Posted on January 22, 2016 by randomyriad

  This sounds like a theme song to a True Detective series. The singer sounds like he has seen hell and has been dragging himself back into the light over rocks and barb wire. The heavy plodding percussion emphasizes the weight … Continue reading →

Posted in Geographies of Death, mindworks, music, my life, my museum of inspiration, Telling Stories, thinking in words | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Floating Mountains

Posted on October 22, 2015 by randomyriad

When I lived on Lummi Island, my children were children, and I rose early to take the ferry to work everyday. I would look out the wall of window and see Mt. Baker and the Sisters dark against the sunrise. … Continue reading →

Posted in Art in Nature, capturing light, mountains, my life, On the Salish Sea, personal history | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Living in Limbo on Lummi Island: Walking, Working, and Waiting

Posted on October 11, 2015 by randomyriad

I am in work limbo and living with a good friend on Lummi Island while I wait for paperwork to start my new job in Lacey. I am working temporarily with my lovely friends big and little at Generations, my … Continue reading →

Posted in All part of the process, autumn, capturing light, my life, On the Salish Sea, paying attention, personal history, Walking, working world | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Best Places Fill You Up and Let You Go: A Note to Generations and The Community Around It

Posted on September 27, 2015 by randomyriad

I am in Transition from preschool work into a career in physical therapy. Yesterday I said good-bye to the best job I have ever had and my favorite educational community. So many people impacted my life as a teacher, and … Continue reading →

Posted in All part of the process, change, developing relationships, Family, my life, Teaching and Learning, working world | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Vacation Alias

Posted on June 11, 2015 by randomyriad

Vacation Alias The old man asked me for my name. For some reason I said, “Marshall.” “As in Marshall Dill Pickle?” he said, Producing a finger gun and The playful sound of shooting. I thought, I guess I will be … Continue reading →

Posted in conversations, my life, poetry | Tagged , , | Leave a comment