Post Category → darma

winooski

Winooski is a small town just ouside of Burlington, Vermont, near lake Champlain and close enough to Canada that my father spoke fluent French all his life, albeit with a proletarian accent. It was also a mythologic place of maple syrup snowcones, woolen mills whose doors were locked right after the morning whistle, and a… Continue reading →

a fine beginning

Always wondered how it would happen, and today it was a phone call from Jason’s wife, 38 years later. Slightly awkward but direct enough to lay the foundation for a meeting in two weeks time. I felt the daze of inevitability and implication; washes of guilt and wonderment. Child of my body but stranger to… Continue reading →