The End

I recently published my first edited book,  Labor of Love: A Literary Mama Staff Anthology ,  with  Small Harbor Publishing . It's an anthology of writing from  Literary Mama  staff over the past 20 years. It's a beautiful collection and I am proud of the writers and proud to share the book.  It seems a fitting moment, as I pondered sharing about the book here on the blog, to reflect on my life as a blogger, and acknowledge that it is time to officially end this blog.   I started blogging in about 2007, when my baby was learning to toddle, when I was learning how to be a mother and stepmother, when I was just starting to see my way as a writer. I needed it back then. I craved it. I had a variety of blog iterations--family, art, creativity, writing things I delved into. There's a freedom in blogging, a casualness, an easy familiarity that's lacking (for me anyway) in other kinds of writing. I loved blogging and the words came pouring out.  Ove...
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Backyard Artist Date- February 2014

This month I went out into my backyard to take a few photos. But this time it was the more general backyard of my dear Ithaca. I headed over to the Museum of the Earth to explore and take note of things that seemed particularly inspiring and interesting. 

 It got me thinking about the earth and how it and everything on it is always changing. Nothing lasts. Mountains erode, oceans reshape the shore, snow melts, pictures fade, feelings pass. Nothing is permanent, as much as we wish it could be. We can try to capture a human moment, for example with a photograph, but still, that moment passes, and we are left with only a memory. Every single thing- the rocks, plants, feelings, water droplets, thoughts, heartbeats, even the photographs- every single thing that is, will someday change form and become something else. Sometimes this change is hard to accept or understand. Sometimes it happens unexpectedly. Sometimes it causes great grief. Sometimes it feels awful. 

 The only consolation I can come up with is to remember to do my best to be present in each moment. Every second we have to breathe is a gift, because someday those breaths will change into something else. We, like the mountains, will continue to change; which, as they say, is the one thing that never changes.





This post is dedicated in loving memory to Lauren Comly.

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