I suppose this is a story like many others. Parrot-loving girl meets bird. Girl feels bad for bird's situation. Girl buys bird. And so on. Not that Sinclair's situation was particularly bad, but it was not particularly good either. Sinclair was a youngster whose eyes were grey like his species name, and hadn't yet mellowed …
I Cry Everyday
Sinclair may be dying. I watch his health decline every day and every day I give him a piece of me. A little something to anchor him in this world, or for his journey to the next. His gorgeous picture graces this website. That's when he was full and vibrant. Now he's the shell of …
Lost
Melancholy eyes gaze on past creation. They are beautiful and amazing and my heart aches for the flow and natural order of it - the present momentness - of starting with nothing and somehow the world and the stars and the universe align, channel through me, move my hands. My muse - a blessed miracle …
Lessons From Panama
Panama City to Playa Venoa and back. A chance to see parrots. Papagayo, loro, perico. Macaw, Amazon, parakeet. Living as nature intended, in their perfect evolution. Wild. Salvajes. ……… Panama City was just as you'd expect in a more progressive Central American country where vast amounts of humans live in small spaces. Six lanes traffic merging …
Untitled, for now
happiness is perched on tippy toe atop a teetering, wobbling mountain stacks of hopes and dreams frail as spun glass waiting to be shattered
Foundation, Memory, & My Friend Martin
My memories of Martin are choppy and fragmented like collaged photos plastered arbitrarily on wilted, sun-stained paper, clinging precariously by cracked and yellowed glue. Or snippets of a movie reel taped together in mismatched order. But strong are the feelings that remain. Commitment. Attachment. Acceptance. Loyalty. Safety. He was my first best friend, protector and …
2019
The new year brings millions of resolutions, publicly scrawled on Facebook; scribbled on post-its, to be laid at the feet of our altars, lit match to paper, sending thin, corkscrew smoke as some secret call to the universe; or perhaps squirreled away in the depths of our own minds, hidden like a secret lust. This …
This is Christmas
I stand amazed at the frantic buying of Christmas; the laundry lists of recipients; the piles of stuff stacked precariously on multiple carts. Black Friday chaos, the pressing of bodies and tugs of war captured for 15 minutes of fame on Youtube. Millions of animals frozen and wrapped like presents in shiny plastic skin so …
Crossroad
I'm on a long and pin straight dirt road driving a vintage Ford pick-up. I don't know the year, but older than me, with crank windows and big round fenders. The original paint may have been green, but it's thin and faded and I can't tell where the decomposing rusty skin ends and the smut …
The Tale of Two Benjis
Lisa: "Benji is a beautiful soul, so sweet and willing to trust people. She must be a girl." Me: "You're right. She's so benign. And look at that face. She must be a girl." Lisa: "If you have the chance, get a DNA test. I'm dying to know!" So begins the tale of two Benjis. …
The Laughing Parrots Studio 