Storybook dweller, believer in magic doorways in the forest, I was the kid who cried because I couldn’t find a way to get into Oz.

After being immersed in anthropology and archaeology, I took up the writing and editing trade. The photography affair began with a Brownie camera in childhood, became a brief flirtation in my teens, fell dormant, and then resurrected into an abiding passion.

My hopes and dreams? A place that feels deep in my bones like home. Love that breaks down the barriers and washes over me like cool lake water on a summer afternoon. Creative art that exhilarates me. Patience and compassion. Really hearing and seeing. Not walking on when I should stop. Dreams that shimmer like the sun on ice. Hopes that get shaken in the deep hours of the night, but unfurl again in the morning like spring buds.

I hope when you visit here, you feel like you’ve come to a place where you’re welcome, even if the words don’t always square up with your view of things.