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By Karen Deal Robinson It was in the month of May And the old folks they were ailing. We were worried and blue, didn’t know

By Andrea Gibson Thanks to Maia Raeder for introducing me to Andrea Gibson’s work.

I recently heard a dream in which the last image was a decorative pin the dreamer had made with seed beads sewn onto leather. Because

Poetry

By William Wordsworth I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o’er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd,

For many years, I’ve found great pleasure in photographing clouds, especially sunsets. This has become such a part of my life that it has shown