When your dad, a scholar, a creative mind, ‘boy-fully’ grabs your pubescent years and hops you through great halls of literature and galleries of fine art . . . is there any wonder what you will become?
You are alive! This is it. Your life. My life. His. Hers. Theirs. Intertwined. We are living it out in REAL time. But what’s that? Really! Take a deep breath. Sheer wonder.
Victory is soft, like a rose. Enjoy it today – it’s beauty, it’s aroma, it’s touch. Tomorrow this rose will be rough. Soon it will crumble to dust.
How do great storytellers access their genius? “We are the stories we tell ourselves,” she said. “We are the stories we believe. We are the stories we sing and speak. We are the stories we enjoy. We are our stories.” _Myosheka Series. We are an integral part of each other’s story. Amy Tan explains..
When all has turned to dust – all that is left is love.
My Christmas Tree is tall and evergreen. Its branches are robust and prickly – the joyous energy of veritable brothers: David and Gaston, Brandon and Deivid, Misha and Pablo. My Christmas tree is sprinkled with joy dust – loads dipped from the shavings of a life alive with the love and laughter above par that of any acquired family spreading hope and cheer: Andre, Leyland, Noel, Ric, Chris, Keith, Joan, Janice, Giilan, Martha, Grace and Yvette.
Passionate poet, marathoner, philosopher and educator Ric Couchman – with his rich poetry – takes Neville DeAngelou back to boyhood days when they knew how to rebuild the world, reshape it against the onslaught of challenging winds.