Honor the Trees You Love with an eBook: The Caretaker of Tree Palace

The Caretaker of Tree Palace is a novel by Dallas indie-author C. Dawn McCallum. Now available in eBook and paperback on Amazon. Synopsis ~ Where do you go when everything in your life is changing? For 13-year old Doodles, it’s to his notebook where he can draw his own world. After his mother’s death, Doodles... Continue Reading →

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Dream Role: On Golden Pond

This October, I'll be playing Chelsea in Ernest Thompson's On Golden Pond. I watched the movie a dozen or so times when I was a youngster in the early 80s, so it's been a blast to dig into this moving play that has touches of life's humor. You could say it's a dream role for... Continue Reading →

Joy Station: Benignly Watchful

There's a longer story, but I'll skip to the good part. What I have is benign. What we'll be is watchful. Onward. I have a rocket-fueled feeling. The projects that nudge me most sit more concisely before me. There's so much momentum. An up-leveling is happening. Here's what Autumn has in store, project-wise: Acting: On... Continue Reading →

Joy Station: About a Week

The breast MRI went smoothly. Breathing was tricky. The variety of loudness was interesting. Overall, it was fine. The MRI tech said if I have to do another MRI someday, it'll be a breeze because the breast MRI is probably the toughest since you have to lie on your stomach the whole time. The radiologist... Continue Reading →

Literary Love-Child

I used to pretend I was Kurt Vonnegut Jr.’s love-child. In a spiritual-literary sense, I still dream that it's true. Here’s a lecture he gave about the Shape of Stories. In his sublime simplicity and humor, he explains all of storytelling with a simple graph. It applies, as well, to the stories we tell ourselves.... Continue Reading →

Joy Station: A Creative Process

I have lumps in my breasts. Quite a few actually. In March 2019, I watched – my head twisted cockeyed – straining to see the screen where my radiologist measured all of the solid masses she found. Rolling the tools of her well-practiced trade on my naked and gel-covered breasts, she chatted with me and... Continue Reading →

Plays and porches

Today I heard from the author of "The Passing of Exquisite Music" that she's okay with my learning and performing the one-woman play she wrote about Martha Root. I spent time with manuscript this evening on the porch of my Texas home. My projects tend to evolve slowly, until they burst out alive. I prefer... Continue Reading →

6 Tips for Selling the Family Home

For decades, your family home provided the backdrop for your life’s memories. Every room in the house echoes with laughter and tears. The process of packing up decades can overwhelm a seller, and the emotions can be intense. Plus selling a family home can have more people involved in the process than the typical transaction.... Continue Reading →

The Alice Project: “…By the deep Sea, and music in its roar.”

To open her 1866 journal, Alice wrote seven quotations in Latin that are hard to decipher to my 21st century eyes. She wrote them in her most elegant script. Then, she signs her name: Alice M. Finch                 Va. And she quotes Lord Byron’s “Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage,” a lengthy narrative poem published between 1812 and 1818.*  “There... Continue Reading →

Late-20th-Century Selfie: Camping

Spring Break 1994, Elsa and I went camping. This was our last spring break as students, since we were both completing our master's degrees in education that year. I had already started working as a long-term substitute teacher in the school district where Elsa and I had met and become friends in the late '80s.... Continue Reading →

Late-20th-Century Selfie: Thanksgiving

Some holidays are so much like all the other holidays that they run together with the other ones in a big holiday soup. It's difficult to distinguish one from the next. This late-20th-century selfie was not from one of those holidays. I'm posing here with my brother, Tracy. This was the Thanksgiving that my half-sister,... Continue Reading →

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