Album Covers through the Decades

Posted May 29, 2025

Filed under Art

I see my life flipping back through the album bin. Where did I really start? Probably when my parents met, when for a fleeting second they played with cousins and friends on a beach that eventually became home to all of us once we too arrived on the scene. But back then it was just theirs to run on. So perhaps, this album would be called “Run On Babe.” Their’s was an epic run as was most pictured here along side the colored cabanas resting on that rocky Long Island northern shore. Perhaps you can hear strands of Sinatra and Fitzgerald crooning while surrounded by a big band filling the sultry heat of a beachy summer night?

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You Can’t Always Get What You Want

Posted February 5, 2025

Filed under Life

If like me you are feeling as if nothing is in your control or at least nothing in the new White House regime and what is happening is the exact opposite of what you worked for and supported then these last few weeks might feel like cold fingers around your neck. The visceral pain punctuated by every step in the project 2025 playbook. We knew it was coming yet we stand powerless as our divided world is torn further from reality and straight into fiction. I don’t really know how a democracy dies or a civilization implodes but as I recycle my Amazon recycled cardboard and drive my e-bike for errands and eat organic local food I think this may be exactly what we are all bearing witness to. The Rolling Stones watched many of the pretty dreams and peaceful aspirations of the 1960’s float away in smoke yet deliberately allowed a modicum of hope in their iconic song, reminding us, “You can’t always get what you want, But if you try sometimes, well, you might find, You get what you need…” This week I found bits of what I need in the small and beautiful world I inhabit. Perhaps that’s a start.

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Blue Sky Action

Posted April 30, 2020

Filed under Life

I really love my job, and nothing could have proven it faster than taking it away from me. Driving up the lamp-post lined Copley Hill to the hundred year old brick building with a hummingbird mural and entering to walk the creaky wood floors to my classroom, the same one I have stood in surrounded by fabulous individuals for over two decades, was my day to day. I miss unlocking that door, greeting the quiet few who always arrive early. Now I get ready for class at our dining room table in the one large space that is kitchen, dining, and living room combined, with windows facing all four directions. Notebook to scribble thoughts for the day, laptop open to a dozen tabs, hot black tea at my elbow, I’m slowly working out how to engage for 45 minutes via a fuzzy and often interrupted google meet twice weekly with my students. Like everyone I know in the school system, I am nonstop problem-solving, whether with curriculum shifts, individual student conferences, talking to para-educators and special educators or with concerned parents. By 4:00 most days I’m intellectually challenged and emotionally drained. But by 4:00 what I’m mostly aware of is how much I miss my students. Miss that class room life. Not every second of it, but most every second with them and all their hope. All their blue sky action.