In the sweet stillness of early morning I light a candle. There’s nothing special about a bit of white wax and a wick in a small glass container but as the flame flickers it casts a glow where I need one. Come . . . There’s nothing magical about it; it is the hope candle because…
We go out for lunch at a favourite place where they serve an Indian food buffet. Three young people come in, while we’re feasting on things like butter chicken, vegetable korma, and naan bread, and sit at the table behind me. Unable to keep from overhearing their conversation about profs and grades and assignments, we…
Dare I take another day at home? Another day with the comfort of a new book, penning a few words in my Moleskin, tapping out a few more on my laptop? Dare I resist the pull to return to society for one more day? I have things to do, and a timeline in which to…
To play a wrong note is insignificant; to play without passion is inexcusable. Ludwig van Beethoven ”I took piano lessons up to grade nine. When I was fifteen I finally talked my mother into letting me quit. I regretted it ever since,” she says over lunch. You’re not like me, I think. # # #…
I’m standing in line at Starbucks on Canada Day, along with many others seeking a cup of comfort on an oddly wet and cool afternoon, looking at the display of cups, and French presses, and other paraphernalia. I spot a nicely shaped ceramic mug and lean in for a closer look. It’s called an Ember…
