On my way back down I heard the ringing of copper bells that led the way, brought to life by long ropes pulled by passers by. And beside the entrance I now saw, what  in the early darkness I had missed: the brightly painted Lord Ganesh, god of all beginnings, wisdom and understanding.

Still Waiting is a story about searching for understanding.

Sleep of Reason is about rules, and sometimes breaking them.

Years ago I broke a pale yellow water pitcher that I’d received from a close childhood friend.  We’d lost our connection but I kept the shards in a drawer, feeling pangs of regret and guilt for my carelessness.  I asked my mom how I might fix the pitcher. She suggested I repair my friendship instead.

A story about regret, my great grandmother and her broken hip, and precious moments.

This past summer we explored a distant part of Lake Cabonga, an immense reservoir that was created when lakes were dammed and flooded many years ago. What was once a part of light, now lives submerged beneath the surface of the lake.

Levels of Light explores what lies beneath.

In October 1979 my family emigrated from our small town in Switzerland. The story is about that time, Canadian lunch boxes, and crossing disorienting gaps.

When we rounded the corner of a large island the wind struck us. The lake changed to emerald green, then black, darkening clouds were encircled by light, and within minutes the lake was boiling.

Lake Cabonga is about a bumpy canoe trip, fear, faith, hope and trust.

She sat down and told us that when she was a small girl, growing up in Eastern Europe, she too had warts on her feet. Her mother took her to see a wise woman in the village, who told her to take a bite out of an apple and bury it under the next full moon. According to our doctor, this cured her of her warts.

Warts is about searching for a cure for warts and other questions and quests. 

According to legend, some years ago, a powerful gust of wind ripped the net out of the  clutches of the farm hands, lifted the long filmy white tail high into the stormy sky, across and beyond the hedgerows, and over the coolness of the darkly waiting forest.

Potato Bugs is about our attempts to control our world.

I had heard that cats bring dead, or half dead mice, to their human owners to teach them how to hunt. Given our lack of responsive learning,  I have always been impressed by Lola’s patience, her unwillingness to give up on us. But recently I came across a different theory:  animals might leave us presents to show their gratitude.

A story about our cat Lola, harvesting brussels sprouts and gratitude. 

300 hundred years ago, one of my ancestors sat at his desk at night, in the house in which we both grew up, and copied out strange words and spells and symbols. The many pages show how threatened and insecure people were in their life on earth, though they yearned, as do we,  for assurance and protection. Confidence, optimism and happiness were not  part of the conversation;  people put their faith into religion  and magic spells instead.