Artemisia

There are two ways to fix your brakes and neither one works. A lesson from high school revisited upon retirement.

Looking back at my schooling from Louisiana to Squamish.

A man and his cat ponder their place in the food chain.

I used to hate painting until some St'at'imx anger management helped me get a burr out from under my saddle.

Cities eventually eat the farmers that made their existence possible. Enlightened urban farmers may cause indigestion.

Sketches of the author and his father. A small stack of enigmatic postcards stashed in the covers of a diary that hurt to write.

It was Grade Seven and the situation was now akin to a screenplay co-written by Wilde, Dante and Kafka.

How I was able to honour my father long after his death for deeds he accomplished long before I was born.

How I narrowly avoided being "set for life."

A true story of best friends in Houston, Texas. Sometimes drugs are not the answer and sometimes they are.

I take people at their word. In this, I am not alone. Nor is it a fault. It is simply a less prevalent way of being.

The superior man sets his life in order and examines himself. Using, understanding and benefitting from the I-Ching.

In which my youngest son learns about ability and teaches me about motivation.

They say if you peer too long into the abyss, it will begin to look back at you.

While the human world has changed in some unprecedentedly good ways; the worst aspects of humanity have remained doggedly steadfast.

You can give a boy a shoeshine kit but you can't change the fact he's a hunter/gatherer.

Pondering the nature and fate of culture from a barber’s chair.

In which, at long last, I allow myself to cry.