Window Over The Sink

I was thinking this morning--today is Sunday, six days before you're reading this--that I am being silenced. Well, not me, actually, but my writing voice. I remember the early days of essays, when I wrote for the Peru Tribune , it wasn't always easy, but I could usually spill out a column in an hour. I didn't have--although I should have had--a proofreader, and I think sometimes Jeff Ward didn't edit what I sent in--and should have; he may have trusted me too much. Some of it

I have to admit it--I have nothing today. But the fairgrounds has this. " Come out and see the Prehistoric Indian artifacts show at the fairgrounds sponsored by the Indiana Archaelogical Society. We are here representing the Miami County Museum  with some of our artifacts and goodies. The show is open until 3pm. The concessions are open and they have some breakfast too! Or this sounds like fun -- If you're out and about tonight, stop in for Open Mic at Gallery 15 -- And then

I can't speak for other professions, but writers and other artists tend to seek each other out.

I apologize for my almost-absence last week. Like everyone else I know, I was battered and bruised by the grief of what has happened...