Tag Archives: anthropology of consciousness

the stones I cannot place

My mother’s ‘passing’  has crippled my writing.  And apparently that’s not all. It would be unfair to blame her, per se, because that would be rude.  But I’ve had a sneaking suspicion that she’s had a hand in it.  Some … Continue reading

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on suicide

Just when I was feeling all kadished-out.  Just when I thought I couldn’t write another thing about death, death and dying, loss, grief, the ones I love, terrible events …  Just when I thought that the kaddish project — our … Continue reading

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yahrtzeit for galina

your quizzical smile eyes cocked, waiting you say nothing, save ‘why?‘ and they pour out their secrets and you — you collect them and you do them justice but that’s just our business— that’s just our business your fingertips arranging … Continue reading

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missing her as I do — new orleans revisited

Maybe I don’t have any right to miss her as I do. Maybe the missing is reserved for what people conventionally call ‘family.’ For kin related by blood or marriage. And I am neither. She is ‘family’ in that other … Continue reading

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on not wanting a ‘conversation with god’

Last night, I had another tetragrammaton moment, where all the elements — the yud, the hei, the vav, and the hei — come together, alchemically bound and perfect in every way. Well, it wasn’t that. There were only three of … Continue reading

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running away together — dordogne

It’s not like either of us never went anywhere — though I thought she had me beat in this regard. Her fieldwork took her to what I thought of as the ends of the earth. although for her, it wasn’t … Continue reading

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