A Change in Mindset: A Visit to Seattle Art Museum, A Friend from Out of Town, New Year’s New Hair

A Change in Mindset

Ah, January 2026—so far, not a month many of us will look back on fondly. This past week I did everything I could to get myself back into a better headspace. I changed my hair (back to auburn—the color I was born with!) I visited the Seattle Art Museum to fill my head with beauty instead of the awful state of things on the news, to wake up my inspiration. And I had a visit from an old friend from high school, who kindly brought me some Korean sunscreens from Paris (far superior to American ones—safer and more effective—in case you’re traveling to Paris or Seoul in the near future).  We went out to lunch then enjoyed the sunshine at Meydenbauer Park. On top of the news of fascism’s rise in America and a new trend in “MAGA hating white liberal women”—as reported by the New York Times (I didn’t need that headline, since they showed their love by shooting one of us in the face in the last ten days, and course blamed US for that problem)—I also had some new bad news about the health of a family member, which is always hard. ICE was also doing some random raids at my local Redmond Target and McDonalds. At least the Seattle Seahawks seem to be on the path to the Superbowl, a little something to cheer about.

Takashi Murakami’s Flower Globe

The Seattle Art Museum

I hadn’t been to the Seattle Art Museum in a while, so I had a pleasant surprise in some new art and installations there. I became a member again a month or so ago with the idea that maybe I could spend some more time looking at art and less time worrying about the state of the world, my health, my loved ones’ health…well, being with art is good for my emotional and mental health.

An installation of happy little clouds in the entryway ceiling made for a cheerful entrance on a gray January day. Then, a new acquisition is right at the ticket takers—a Takashi Murakami 3-D piece called Flower Globe. The featured exhibit was Impressionism: Farm to Table, which included great pieces—The Gleaners by Lhermitte, a haystack by Monet, a wonderful flowering apple scene by Sisley. But even more delightful was finding two new recent on-loan pieces in a lonely room on the fourth floor —The Chess Game by John Singer Sargent and The Water Lily Pond by Monet. No one even knew they were there, and they’re both amazing. Also a surprise—a giant wolf in cedar sculpture was a standout in the Animal Intelligence installation. Anyway, besides the horrible knot of traffic coming and going from downtown Seattle, it was a delightful visit, and I felt uplifted. (Here’s a link to see some good images from the Impressionist Show, which closed today.) I was underwhelmed by this art museum when I first moved here 20 years ago—I was hoping for a museum closer to Chicago’s, or San Francisco’s, art museums—but I think the place is improving. We have so much tech money in this area, but there are still too few billionaire/millionaire’s willing to loan or donate their art to our museum. If we had more support for the arts out here, it would certainly help lift the entire city, in my opinion. We can’t all simply be coding slaves to Amazon, Microsoft, or airplane builders at Boeing—we need to build art into the next generation’s sensibility as much as computer science. We need symphonies, and ballet, and visual art of all types, and yes, poetry.

Glenn, me, and Emily

Friend Visit Alert!

We had a visit from an old high school and college friend, Emily, who was kind enough to carry some Korean sunscreen with her from a trip to Paris to us here in Seattle. We caught up over a delicious lunch at all gluten-free, upscale Mexican restaurant Cantina Monarca (and I got to talk to the chef!) and then walked around in rare January sunshine at Meydenbauer Beach Park, which overlooks Lake Washington, before going home to dinner and enjoyed reminiscing about old times while watching the first couple of episodes of Only Murders in the Building (I’d forgotten how good those first few episodes were!) Emily was (as always) bright and energetic, and it was fun remembering old times. It’s funny how spending time with friends from—oh, thirty years ago—and it’s like no time has passed at all. Another good reset for our brains, too—spending time with friends is definitely something I want to do more, not less, of in 2026. It’s good not to take our friendships for granted, and I’m trying harder not to isolate myself so much (a holdover probably from the pandemic that I haven’t quite gotten over yet).

Me in the sun at Lake Washington

In Hard Times, How Do We Stay Resilient?

Emily asked me a question while she was here that made me think about how we allow ourselves to respond to hard times. How do you do it? Good question! I think I made a joke about “what are my other options,” but the real question behind the question is, how do you stay resilient in the face of pain, loss, stress, etc. Which is a question we all have to wrestle with. I wrote a poem (in my book Flare, Corona,) whose title is something like “In a Plague Year, We Are Tired of the Word Resilience.” But the truth is, we choose how to respond to tragedies large and small, pandemics, friends and family with tough medical diagnoses, our own health struggles, relationships that are lost (through death or through just growing apart), money troubles, divorces, and yes, nightmares of politics. I have never been one to be all-bright optimist—which you probably know if you read my books—or a “hide your head in the sand” denial-embracer. But I’m not really a pessimist at the core, either. Things like music, visual art, writing, books, friendships, and even something as small as enjoying a sunny day in January or changing hair colors—can give us a wider perspective, a chance to remove our focus from ourselves, and remember what it is we are living for. What we fight for.

When I volunteered with dying children and later, dying heart patients, in my teens and early twenties, and then again when I was diagnosed with terminal liver cancer—one thing I learned was that you have to give your body—your spirit—a reason to live. It can’t just be all chemo appointments and medication regimens and even therapy or yoga—those things don’t give you enough of a reward to stay in the fight, if you will. If you have a passion—if something really gives you joy—I recommend you give yourself more time and energy to spend on that, whether it’s making a perfect Basque cheesecake or painting a 3-D daisy globe that will sell for millions. How do we get through? By helping others, by feeling love for an animal, other humans, even plants, by creating something worthwhile, by feeling that we have a real purpose. Maybe we dress up and drink a glass of champagne and dance, or we visit a new city, or we meet new people or attend a football game or an opera—we give ourselves a reason to live, to hope, to experience new things. Wishing you all resilience in the face of 2026.

A Wonderful Visit with a Poet Friend in the New Year, and Then, Grappling with the ICE Murder of a Poet and an Unhinged President

A Wonderful Visit with a Poet Friend in the New Year

This post may seem a little bit unbalanced, but I have to describe the good times as well as the bad this week. Let me start with the birthday celebration with my good friend poet Kelli Agodon, in which we had a lot of laughs, some cupcakes, some libations, and some good talk about poetry. I had been feeling a bit discouraged on the poetry front, and Kelli is always good at helping me see the bigger picture on that front.

Glenn and Kelli’s husband Rose helped the festive mood, and Charlotte the literary kitten came out to be admired. Kelli’s new book is about to come out in a few months, and I am really looking forward to seeing it in real life!

It is no little thing to get together with friends and celebrate life’s joys. Human being’s capacity for joy is just as important as our capacity for grief and empathy—part of what makes being human worthwhile. After she left, I wrote my first poem of the new year and sent my book out to another publisher.

Grappling with the ICE Murder of a Poet, and an Unhinged President Grabbing Other Countries…

It is impossible to keep my blog apolitical these days. And why try? Not to quote Harry Potter, but as Minerva McGonagal said in The Deathly Hallows, “…his name is Voldemort, Filius. You might as well use it; he’s going to try and kill you either way.” There’s no point in trying to be nice, to not speak up in public, because at this point, they will try and kill us either way, and they proved it this week, murdering a young mother and award-winning poet, Renee Good, in cold blood by shooting her in the face when she was no threat, then lying about it and saying she was a ‘domestic terrorist.’ This evening, they were breaking into people’s houses in Minneapolis, where I have many friends, without warrants, brandishing guns in front of children. If anyone is the terrorist at this point, it is the Gestapo-like ICE agents, who seem to face no consequences, unlike our military and police force, for murder. We’ll see if the murderer is brought to justice. There is plenty of video evidence to show that the woman was no terrorist, though propogandists would have you believe otherwise, and the ice agent videotaping his encounter and when she says “I’m not mad at you” he growls “fucking bitch” as he shoots her three times in the head, with her wife and dog in the car. A white, innocent, American citizen—not a criminal, not an “illegal immigrant” but a local, mother of three, Christian housewife. None of those privileges protects us anymore from Trump’s evil personal secret enforcers. There were so many on the internet claiming Renee deserved to be murdered because she would not comply, but let me remind you, there were many that died in the hands of the Nazis, too for refusing to comply. I will be with the Resistance, in case you were wondering. I have a magnet on my fridge that says, “If I had to pick one word to best describe myself, I suppose it would have to be: Can’t. Follow. Orders.”

We must act to protect our country’s freedoms, or we must leave. It feels very much like the history books, reading about Berlin and Vienna in the 1930s. I remember reading about friends sneaking Jewish Dr. Freud out, and I remember asking myself why he didn’t leave sooner—but now I see, leaving isn’t easy, and a lot of people want to stay and fight to make their country a better place—though I am feeling unsure that that is even possible at this point. The United States, by the way, turned down Anne Frank’s application to come here to escape the Nazis, thereby causing her death in the concentration camps. Plus ca change…

With Trump kidnapping Venezuela’s President and First Lady, installing a puppet President and taking over the country’s oil, and now threatening our NATO ally Denmark by threatening to use military force to take Greenland, well, it sure does look like Hitler’s playbook, doesn’t it? And we know from history that appeasing bullies and dictators—as people and countries did in the 30’s—did not protect them. Not being willing to speak the evil’s name does not protect us.

These are serious times, and serious topics. It is easy to feel frightened and helpless and angry, all at once. I am a poet, and so, as we witness these moments, we will write poetry, maybe no one will read it, but we will write it all the same.

Here is my poem, “In Which I Declare My Resistance,’ published previously in Rise Up Review.

Happy New Year! A Poem in the Final Issue of The Pedestal, New Year’s Celebrations but I Guess We’re in a War Now?

Happy New Year! New Year’s Eve Celebrations

Unlike our Christmas, our New Year’s was happily uneventful and actually fun. No medical crises or anything. We celebrated together at the Willows Lodge, where we had cocktails and wore silly hats and rang in the New Year. We went home and tried to watch our local fireworks (socked in the fog, invisible with very unsteady camera work) so we switched and watched the Paris New Year’s celebration at the Arc du Triomphe, where I was amused they included KPop Demon Hunter’s “Golden” in the musical mix. People were in a festive mood, and when we got home we got in our pajamas and watched Sleepless in Seattle. For New Year’s Day we had the traditional (and delicious) hopping john and cornbread (my Southern heritage hasn’t been completely erased, you see) and had TMC’s The Thin Man marathon on all day while we slept in and did leisure things. I worked a little on my book, and tried to get outside although it was very cold unpleasant (you don’t move to Seattle for the January weather, that’s for sure.

Things I was delighted by on New Year’s Eve: Willows Lodge had its art glass fish wearing tiny holiday hats, and we enjoyed wearing silly hats ourselves.

A Poem, “Revontulet,” in the final issue of The Pedestal

I was very happy to have a poem in the final issue of The Pedestal, along with many friends like Connie Post and Heidi Seaborn, although I am sorry the lit mag is coming to an end. You can see my poem and the whole issue here.

Trying to Focus on Writing But I Guess We’re in a War Now?

I did not vote for the current President, so I can’t be accused of ever believing any of his many, many lies, but I’m pretty sure one of them was he wasn’t going to get us involved in foreign wars (along with cheaper eggs.) So last night he bombed the capital of Venezuela and kidnapped the President and First Lady without notifying or seeking the approval of congress, which seems shockingly illegal but it seems other Presidents have done it so…I guess, we’re in a war now against an impoverished country? All I ever knew about Venezuela was that their economy has been mismanaged and the people have suffered, their food was excellent, and every Venezuelan I’ve ever met has been extremely nice and very good looking. I knew from this MST3K short that the US had once had a partnership with Venezuela involved with oil, so I’m guessing that’s the reason behind this mysterious country-grabbing that this terrible egomaniac who runs our country (not with my blessing) mystifying actions.

In non-war news, I’m trying to figure out if I need to revamp my current manuscript with the new bunch of submissions. Does it need to be re-written? I am suffering, if I’m honest, with self-doubt and self-criticism. I thought this was a really good book, but have rejections hurt my confidence? For sure. It’s also a book that’s squarely about disability, feminism, and survival. That may not be what all editors are looking for.  Urgh. I hate the part of writing – and it’s a large part – that is rejection, doubt, insecurity, poverty, obscurity. The waiting. The thinking “Maybe I should quit. Maybe I should write detective novels or advertising copy.” One of my goals for 2026 is to find the right publisher for this book, along with maybe a little more travel and (hopefully) better health. Think good thoughts for me!

And as we enter this 2026, on the night of a Supermoon, I wish you a gentler year, at the same time acknowledging that it’s been a hard last few years and we have to be kind to ourselves. It’s hard to be in this country right now for me, and maybe for you, and feeling things happening that are out of your control. It’s especially hard in the arts, at a time when the world literally needs art more than ever. So be creative, even if it’s just in little ways. Sketch a bird or write a poem or make a craft for someone you love. Play the guitar. I feel somehow art in its subversive way may be the way through this year. So, welcome new year!

A Stressful Christmas, Thinking about 2025, and the Year Ahead

Christmas Moon

Post-Christmas Roundup

Hope you all had a peaceful and healthy holiday. Our Christmas Eve involved Glenn having to go for a stat DVT ultrasound after his year-end physical, an emergency cat vet visit for Sylvia, and me worrying about how my disability keeps me from being a good caretaker for anyone, including myself, my husband, and my cat. Good times! Glenn is fine (but needs more tests) and so is Sylvia after being pumped with antibiotics. We managed to celebrate Christmas day with my little brother without too much trauma, but everything just left me exhausted. I had a MRI for my brain on the 22nd, and I have to meet with my neurologist tomorrow, but by the report it didn’t look like too much bad news, at least on the brain lesion front. Note to self for next year: do NOT leave it ’til the end of the year to do all your family medical stuff because of the resetting deductible. Learn from my mistakes!

Lest I sound too gloom-and-doom, I received, among other great presents, a lovely Dewi Plass print on a metal core called “Onward,” I had a post-Christmas coffee with new-to-Seattle scientist/poet Genevieve Pfeiffer, and I was able to visit with my little brother. And as you can see from the photo, Sylvia is back to her inquisitive normal self. And my hair is back to my more-normal-for-me pink! Red hair is a LOT of maintenance.

Thinking about 2025 and the Year Ahead

I know you’re supposed to size up the previous year and set goals for the next, but I feel like 2025 was somehow rougher than it could have been—the bathroom renovation was a too-long-and-too-expensive nightmare (I’m glad to have the disability-friendly bathroom, but it took a LOT of time and money and took a toll on both my health and Glenn’s)—rejection on the writing front, an increase in MS symptoms for the last six months (hence the brain MRI), and the political nightmare that is America right now—I want to be grateful and count my blessings, but for now, I just feel like shutting the door on the last few years and hoping for some more normalcy—for myself and my country—in 2026. Just wishing doesn’t make it so, of course. I know a lot of people who had a difficult holiday season—health emergencies, layoffs, losing parents and loved ones, divorces, or learning to care for parents who are getting older. I am sending good thoughts to all who are struggling right now.

If I have some positive hopes for the new year, it’s maybe a trip to Europe and a residency in spring on San Juan Island, maybe to find a good publisher for my seventh book, maybe a part-time regular job I could count on instead of scrambling for freelance stuff all the time, better health for me and my family? Less drama, more fun. Less spending, more appreciating the things I have. More time for friendship, adventure, inspiration? At my age and with so many things out of my control, I don’t do “goal setting” per se like I used to for each new year, but I do try to envision something positive—small joys, the chance to reset, a chance to embrace something new.

Wishing you all a Happy New Year! Here’s to a better 2026 for all of us!

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, New Poem in Laurel Review, and Holiday Coping Mechanisms

Glenn and I in holiday sweaters for our festival book club

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas (and Hannukah and Solstice)

Today is the Solstice. It’s also the week of Christmas, and Hannukah, which can be a wonderful time, but also a time of stress—more heart attacks on December 25th than any other time of year, and famously, suicide rates are higher this time of year—so be easy on yourself and your loved ones, give yourself a break, sleep in a little, remember everyone is anxious and outside it’s cold (and here, possibly flooding), so the point is, try to enjoy yourself and whomever you celebrate with.

Here are some hummingbird pictures to cheer you up.

New Poem in Laurel Review

Charlotte with Laurel Review

Very excited to get my contributor’s copy of Laurel Review, which has my poem “Biodiversity (In the World of Fairy Tales)”—and also work by a ton of friends, Steve Fellner, Amanda Auchter, Michael Czyzniejewski, and local Allen Braden. I love when I get to read my friend’s work with mine! Anyway, highly recommend the issue.

Here’s a sneak peek at my poem:

Holiday Coping Mechanisms

Do you have any special holiday-specific coping mechanisms to share? I posted that Facebook makes me feel more depressed but my Instagram feed (which tends to be cute animals—red pandas! ermines! foxes!—plus a bit of poetry and Stephen Colbert clips) makes me feel better. I also recommend a hot chocolate (or beverage of choice) at 4 PM (when it gets dark here in Seattle) to help you cope with the cold winter lack of lights. I also notice my skin and lips are dryer than usual, so remember moisturizer and lip balm. Schedule-in fun things that help you disconnect from the news, family stress, etc. that will help you actually enjoy the season. Sometimes going out to the movies or a museum can get you out of the house and out of a mindset. A coffee date with a friend can be a great pick-me-up as well. If you, like me, have must-dos (like medical appointments) you have to do before the end of the year because of deductibles/insurance reasons, give yourself enough time that you’re not rushing to and from, and plan something pleasant afterwards.

Since tonight is the Solstice, I’ll try to remember to light a candle (even an LED one counts) and think about what I want to leave behind and what I want to happen in the new year. A friend of mine recommended a “reverse bucket list,” which involves listing accomplishments you’ve already done and crossing things off your life list that you don’t need or want (skydiving? No thank you! I’ve already parasailed, zip lined, rock climbed, rappelled down a mountain, and ropes courses galore…don’t have anything to prove about that stuff anymore). The point is that we often discount things we’ve already accomplished and feel anxious about things we want that we haven’t accomplished yet (more money! more fame! more accolades! etc.), so this is a way to feel more gratitude and less stress.

I also create a Vision Board for each year and find working with visuals helps activate my inner artist (even though I’m not usually an arts/crafts type) and the Solstice is a great time to get in touch with our intuitive inner self.

Anyway, wishing you all a happy Solstice, a Merry Christmas, and a Happy Hannukah, with a minimum of stress and a maximum of joy.