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Beginner's Heart
the names of the dead are ghosts
By
Britton Gildersleeve
A couple of weeks ago I upgraded my phone. Which meant shifting contacts. And as there was a major update on my desktop as well, it seemed a good idea to go through my directory. Because people die. And it takes YEARS before I can bring myself to ‘delete’ them. And yes, I realise they’ve…
feeding writers (and other artists)
By
Britton Gildersleeve
I’ve spent the past week as busy as bees storing late summer honey. First there was the annual writing conference I both help with and attend — Nimrod’s Conference for Readers & Writers. That’s a two-day gig of work (not to mention the prep!) for those of us who work it. There are writers to…
calling the trees by name
By
Britton Gildersleeve
I name my trees when I plant them: Ramses, Henry, Scarlett, Daphne. My car has a name, and like T.S. Eliot, I believe cats will tell you their names. IF you pay attention. My sister and niece are still waiting for ‘Cat’ to tell them hers. Names are, as so many cultures know, power. A…
leafturn, oceanstill
By
Britton Gildersleeve
It’s autumn, when life begins to slow. Sap draws down, and other than the frenzied cheek-stuffing of squirrels, outside seems quieter. Except for the explosions of colour beginning to detonate. Today, I’m writing from a dear friend’s home, looking out over the infinitely beautiful valley below her wall of windows. Mostly evergreens, but the deciduous trees…
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