Join Laura Boggess as she hops the fence and wades through the grass to sit a while under the leafy branches of a giant tree.
The syrup-making man shares about his business, his face shining as he talks, and I surprise myself by accepting an invitation to visit his sugar house.
On a visit to an apiary, the bees live out a powerful metaphor for anyone who wants to become a better writer.
Ideas for how to become a better writer may be as close as the back yard, or even the kitchen. Today’s artist date will make you hungry for more.
Laura Boggess knows how to become a better writer: go on an Artist Date in the back yard, where the clover beckons.
Come along on an Artist Date? This week, we explore a state capitol and see what its history can tell us.
Come along on an Artist Date? This week, we’re humming to layers of souls.
Take an Artist Date to the un-useful plant section of a conservatory. Un-useful, that is, unless you see the value of sudden play.
I was afraid of poetry. And so, I avoided it.
I miss you, my friend.
Oliver called hospice the next day. The nurses came and went like ghosts…
The watchers started laughing in her head and she put her fingers to her temples.
The moon was slowly rising over the poster board horizon—its waxing gibbous a face turned away from their party.
For a woman who needs nursing care every few hours…It’s just too risky.
“What I wouldn’t give to see the ocean one more time before I die.”
Every day this week it was the same: two poems a day and Justine asleep in a half an hour.
Pain isn’t a wound we can stitch to a close…
She thought she would never see him again and shame burned her cheeks as she remembered their last encounter.
She reached out a shaky hand to pluck the book from the table…
She needed that poetry book. But something was standing in her way.