“Lock up your libraries if you like; but there is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind.” — Virginia Woolf
27 July 2019 Today feels very bleak. (A hasty draft journal in time.) Bleakness breeds hasty remedies. Cultish solutions seem tantalizing to thoughtful people. The news of the day is all about the bitter tyrants winning. All over the world. I am caught up in meditating on a death. In the public sphere, the global… Continue reading Give Me Too Much: An Ode to Excess
Mothering between time zones. Letting go.
30 June 2019 When the sky is tangerine in your Edmonton garden and your daughter’s cityscape from Kuala Lumpur is clear, you know you have arrived in the present. When your now adult child wings her way across an ocean, lands in Shanghai and then takes off again for a more distant destination, the concept… Continue reading Only a Guilty Mother Would Admit To These Dreams – letting go #1
by Janice Williamson "It is never too late to be what you might have been." –George Eliot I was writing so intensely I fell out of bed. 30 June 2019 When the sky is tangerine in your Edmonton garden and your daughter’s cityscape from Kuala Lumpur is clear, you know you have arrived in the… Continue reading The End Is In Sight
by Janice Williamson 4 June 2019 That insane night when you think that your daughter has been kidnapped and her phone is at the bottom of the sea near Malacca. Because when you look up the way this new app works, you discover the WhatsApp checkmarks tell you your message was sent but not read.… Continue reading Checkmark – letting go #2
20 May 2019 I moved to Edmonton in 1987 and Myrna Kostash was the only person I knew beyond several UofA colleagues. I knew of her through some feminist artist and writers friends in Toronto. Myrna was most welcoming and through her I met other socialist-feminist Ukrainian friends who lived in a wonderful collective community… Continue reading First Friend
No Gate No Lock 