Carol S. Mann
Bits and Pieces
From Plutarch: Painting is silent poetry, and poetry is painting that speaks.
Some days should never happen, like those days fate conspires to reek havoc with your plans. Enter May 5, 2018. I was on my way to a Volunteer Recognition Luncheon for the Palm Springs Writers Guild. From there I would … Continue reading
A local museum sent out a mailer announcing a Native American pottery show. It looked enticing plus I’d wanted to own a pottery piece for some time. I find the artwork calming and soothing, intricate and pleasing. I like its … Continue reading
I finally did it. I succumbed to the lure of Ancestry.com and the siren call of its TV advertising. Unable to resist its special holiday pricing, I sent for my kit. The compact box arrived with instructions on how to … Continue reading
Did you ever, as a little girl, dance with your father? You know. He held your hands, you placed your feet on each of his, and he waltzed you around the room. Remember? As you grew, he steadied you on … Continue reading
Some days I walk down the hall to the office thinking of other things I’d rather do than write. You know, procrastinator thoughts. Paint a room. Clean the garage. Pay bills. Other days I walk down the hall like I’m … Continue reading