I’ve never really like crowds. But now, unlike in my pre-bloody brain life, I can’t tolerate them. I can’t process high volumes of information in a timely fashion. All data comes in with equal value, whether it is a loud shriek or a soft murmur. All colors seem garish, blinding, and all tactile input is harsh to the touch. Everything is a blur, without shape, chaotic. I can’t make order out of the chaos. I have nothing to anchor me and my incoherent thoughts. My brain lacks the ability to file information away under recognizable labels.
Gus’s a funny little thing, a mutt, smarter that I could have imagined. He teases me, changing the rules of games as we play, laughing at me from the top of the steep hill in my back yard, squeaking his toy as he tries to tempt me to clamber up the slippery slope to wrestle the toy away from him.
I want to weave a scarf for a very special person, Annabella. I met her once, and I may never set eyes on her again. I want to weave a scarf that will do justice to her eyes, the colors of the sea at the Amalfi Coast in Italy, startling blues and greens. I want … Read more
We treasure gold and diamonds, and to a lesser degree silver, rubies, and emeralds. But what if precious metals and gemstones didn’t exist? Would we have looked to other natural resources to treasure? Or to something completely different such as handmade items or skill? Arts and artists? Books and writers? Among Plolynesians, this issue was … Read more