: About Me

Born Toronto, Ontario, Canada in 1953 to a third generation upper middel class Canadian couple who had adopted the Baha'i Faith in the 1940s. Two older brothers and a younger sister. Currently I live alone on a acreage just outside of Edmonton, Alberta, Canada.

Married two times to date.... and, alas divorced as many times.

Children, but one son, now 24.

Education over a ten year period in social work and criminal justice resulted in a BA from Althabasca University in the early 1980s.

Employment was largely as a social worker for the 8 years I worked for others. Since the mid-80's I have worked for myself first as a consultant on government and then as a buyer and seller of almost anything that can be legally and ethically handled.

Religion... was raised in and have practiced the Baha'i Faith off and on for most of my life. I have learned that religion in and of itself does not provide more answers than questions and that these, such as they are, are seldom expressed or found within the constraints of words.

Writing is something I do unevenly, more inclined towards poetry than other forms.... perhaps because there is less likelihood of not getting it right. I suppose most people who have met me would not suspect I am a poet at heart as I tend to be a debater and somewhat legalistic in my use of language in speech.

My passion is ...

the power of the unknown

I know too much about ...

procrastinating

My parents always told me ...

they knew the answer

My childhood ambition ...

to sail away

My favorite memory ...

a wild beach on the NW tip of Vancouver Island, an untamed mountain valley

Why I write ...

It seems to come easily... to be the breath of my spirit. I need to breath deeply more often.

What I am reading/watching/listening to ...

Spiritual Solution to Every Problem, Lost, karlaanderson.com

My first job ...

Fish decapitator / processor in Iceland

My best moment ...

is yet to come

My inspiration ...

the chickadees that overwinter here at -25 C

Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Death of a loved one

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Those forgotten years As her memory left Seemed an eternity Until viewed as days Divine There, they were as moments Experiments with perfection Now achieved Spirit freed Memories not needed Except by those still body bound

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