Ancient people in the frigid north of Scotland, from 300 AD to 500 AD, carved designs into rock and fashioned jewelry from molten metal. They tattooed their bodies with blue plant-based pigment. The Roman invaders labeled them The Picts, the painted people. I'm fascinated by their art. I respect them. They were ancient people "coloring" …
Category: History
The Cow Pasture Battles of 1940, Chapter 2 of “Nauvoo”
In 1941, half my town was taken over by the government, and the people there had to move out and find new homes. Country folks packed up their belongings on pickup trucks. They made arrangements to move their livestock and farm equipment to a new destination, leaving their friends and community behind. The reason for …
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Trying to Bury Us, Chapter 1 of “Nauvoo”
"They tried to bury us. They didn't know we were seeds."- Dino Christianpolus. I live, like many people in this world, in an insignificant place, a bit of geography once used and now forgotten. When I tell local people the name of my town, they snicker, especially those who reside in the more popular tourist …
The Story
Once upon a time, there was an old woman who believed in the magic of books. In the days of folk and fairy tales, she would have been called a crone, a character type in literature rarely included in the epics of male heroes and adventurers. A crone was a female long past her prime, …
The Damn Funk and Wagnall
I think they were maroon-colored, upright soldiers standing at attention in a uniform line on one of the lower shelves of the bookcase my father had built for our living room. Looking back, they were a bit of democracy, readily available for all if the inclination was there. Everyone in my community had a set …
The Uncertainty of Being a Woman
A curse, some coins, and a killing. Little did I know that a road trip to an abandoned mental hospital would lead me to a story about the art world, a scandal, and a tragedy. I believe everyone I meet is a teacher ready to expand my worldview and increase my knowledge. The antique shop …
The Lessons of Gossip, Slander, and Name Calling
I knew the man didn't like me as soon as I looked into his eyes. I hadn't noticed him as I walked into the darkness of the museum toward the ticket booth. He was about 80 years old, wearing a Duke University baseball cap, and directly in my path. He tapped his mask, indicating, without …
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Flesh and Blood, Bits and Pieces
I walk for hours. Sometimes, my hip would end up hurting from the unevenness of the trek, one foot on the shore, the other in the water. I have learned to wear an old pair of sneakers tied tightly to prevent rocks from getting in my shoes. My hair is long enough to pull back …
The Autonomous Traveler 