Birch
One day many years ago, my friend Eve Apprill asked if I would like to go visit some trees in Paris. It was an unusual invitation – though, given her name, I suppose it made …
Read More →Posts By: Elaine
Chucking the Compost
Late last year, along with my Beloved and the bank, I became the proud if bewildered owner of a house in a small village in northwest France. This house has a substantial garden. I am …
Read More →(Not) Drowning in the C
In times of adversity, it is important to be strong within and sparing of words.
– I-Ching: The Book of Changes (Richard Wilhelm, translator)
This month’s blog is by far the …
Read More →Reconciled Among the Stars
On a fairly regular basis, I find myself saying (out loud, no less) that I would give anything for an extra day in the week. I know my to-do list would simply expand to fill …
Read More →When the Year is New No More
There was a stretch of time when I spent every New Year at a Zen Buddhist temple in central France. The annual winter retreat was cradled in what the Germans call “the days between the …
Read More →Best Wishes
I have a school memory that has banged up against my subconcious so consistently that it has busted its way into my dreams. I’m in my school uniform, sitting at my desk with the groove …
Read More →Back Home
At the western edge of the New Jersey town where I grew up, a lovely park spread from the boulevard down to the bay, with generous hills for rolling in autumn leaves or winter snow, …
Read More →Claire Buisson
Researcher, choreographer, and teacher, Claire Buisson is the Director of Artistic and Cultural Education at the National Center for Dance (CND) in Pantin, France. Since 2017, she has been coordinating IMAGINE, a program for women …
Read More →The Rounding
I was once engaged to a man who loved animals. His devotion to his cats and dogs was utter and complete.
I loved animals as well, but lacked the immersive, day-in-day-out experience of taking care of …
Read More →Luck
My parents were hard workers. Day after day they rose early, turned on the radio and made coffee in the silver percolator (my father), set out my breakfast and my bagged lunch (my mother), and …
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