Lesson 1

Julie Hill Alger

Opal Marble

Photo by Parée Erica

At least I’ve learned this much:
Life doesn’t have to be
all poetry and roses. Life
can be bus rides, gritty sidewalks,
electric bills, dishwashing,
chapped lips, dull stubby pencils
with the erasers chewed off,
cheap radios played too loud,
the rank smell of stale coffee
yet still glow
with the inner fire of an opal,
still taste like honey.

More poems by Julie Hill Alger


Claude Monet

Chrysanthemums by Claude Monet

Everyone discusses my art and pretends to understand, as if it were necessary to understand, when it is simply necessary to love. –Claude Monet

White Elephants, Orange Plastic Cats

Mary Witzl

Orange Cat

Photo by Enokson



She was almost past our house when she suddenly stopped and stared. Her eyes widened, her mouth dropped open, and as she moved towards our table of rejects, I could see the longing in her eyes.



My mother had a keen wit, a love of good books, reading, languages, and life-long learning, and a generally impeccable sense of justice. She had a number of faults too of course, and one of them was a perverse talent for unwittingly picking the last thing in the world you would want as a gift. Having grown up in the age before plastics were widely used, my mother never got over her fascination for Mellmac, Tupperware, and just about any other plastic product you could mention. “It never wears out!” she used to say, when I expressed my loathing for polyester. “You can drop it and it won’t chip or break,” she would say when I longed to eat off china instead of Tupperware. “Termites can’t eat it!” was her standard line when I wondered why we couldn’t buy more furniture made of wood. Over the years, she never quite learned what I liked, so I accumulated a collection of things I could never use or develop an aesthetic appreciation for.

Read the full post at ResidentAlien

Healing Quote of the Day

We have focused only on the negatives, and not enough on incredible stories of the human spirit and of rebirth and rebuilding. That’s equally important as the tragedy. –Steve Perry (singer, songwriter, musician)

Bridge to Terabithia

Katherine Paterson

bridge to terabithia

Now it occurred to him that perhaps Terabithia was like a castle where you came to be knighted. After you stayed for a while and grew strong you had to move on. For hadn’t Leslie, even in Terabithia, tried to push back the walls of his mind and make him see beyond to the shining world—huge and terrible and beautiful and very fragile? (Handle with care—everything—even the predators.)

Find Bridge to Terabithia

Give It Up

Hothouse Flowers

It doesn’t really matter if you’re all
Jumbled up inside
As long as you know love is
Endless and the world is wide
Give it up share it out
Help who you can
Talk about it

More music by Hothouse Flowers

Youtube Post by cathalb4

If There Was No Poetry

Tess Norton

Mama and baby bird photo by Yuwen Teo

Photo by Yuwen Teo

If there was no poetry
then what would become
of my fledgling thoughts
unbaked as they are

this mish-mash of words
words I’ve barely stirred

i have made them presentable
readied them to be penned
they all wait proudly
showing their finest
how versatile they can be
wanting to be chosen

metaphors so clever
phrases perfectly turned
runes waiting for attribution
clichés anticipating new life

would my gift for schtick
never get the chance to evoke
the laughs I so crave
oh! what a terrible curse
to have my pen stilled

where would I put the
clatter in my head
if not into poetry
each precious word a chick nudged
from its nest
all my babies: some fly, some fall flat

i am mother to these fledglings
watchful, hopeful, shaping them
helping them fulfill their potential
and when they take flight
avoiding the fate of Icarus
they save me
for a moment
they save me
from the madness
the world


More poetry by Tess Norton on PoetrySoup.com

Joy of Life

John Kennedy

y of Life by John Kennedy

I seek to capture the warmth and tender closeness, as well as the joyfulness and whimsicality of human relationships.  This is why I use the body as a point of departure, simplifying the figure to a lyrical composition. –John Kennedy

Learn more about sculptor John Kennedy at johnkennedystudio.com

Find works by John Kennedy at the Coda Gallery

I Have No Reasons to Despair


Not Watching the Road Photo by Tim Samoff

Photo by Tim Samoff



And another thing: Stop turning to face and talk to each other when one of you is driving. Keep your eyes on the road.



I have no reasons to despair. I don’t even have any problems, at least no serious ones. I am presently not afraid of death despite the fact that soon enough I will be – again. As it happens every so often.

I worry, obviously. It’s a habit, a game. I can get myself deep deep into worry. Like having a bath. Almost enjoyable but too hot and hard to get out of.

Read the full post at Interim Arrangements

Healing Quote of the Day

Dog with Stick Photo by Dan R

Photo by Dan R

It Doesn’t matter how many people tell you no. — Seattle Seahawks quarterback, Russell Wilson