Tweet tweet tweet from from my studio perch. (No relation to social media.)

Look out your window; write what you see.

January 20 prompt, “A Writer’s Book of Days”

This prompt catches the sky on an off day. Gone is the usual crisp azure. A blue so sharp and clear that it could be used by a surgeon to laser through body tissue.

Vanished — albeit not for long!  — is that sky. It’ll return probably tomorrow. Gray skies do not linger here as they do in western Washington state. God-awful Washington state. The only state in all the land in which I’ve vowed never to step foot again. Unless I’m en route to Canada. Even then, I’d take the long way ’round!

From my window is seen sky: primarily. The location of my little studio — and I do mean little! — affords this fantastic view. It is perched atop a hill, one of many in my town. Not steep San Francisco hills. Having lived there oh so long ago!, I know them well. Talk about good exercise!!

The hills here are gentler than the City’s though still a workout, some are. Especially if you’re on foot and hurrying to get home! As I often seem to be for this reason or other.

The hills can be deadly in snow or ice. The slope of my access alley resulted in city traffic barriers erected at this last storm. My driveway, well, that’s a whole other level of slope! San Francisco slope! I wouldn’t attempt driving it in snow and ice!

The view. From the window in my little studio, it is sky: primarily. Today the shade of gray gauze. Textured. Like those cotton packs dentists stuff between gums and lips.

Interrupting heaven’s expanse are hills and mountains. Granite Mountain, specifically. I do not know the names of the three peaks, tapered, in my direct line of vision. They resemble two giant boobs and behind those a boob by its lonesome. No silicone implants, I assure. 🙂

The natural landscape — from the hills to the giant boobs plus one to the sharp carved peaks of Granite Mountain — all within the view out my window! — are garbed in browns and greens in the style of shrubs and trees of mountainous high desert.

If you travel this direction with Nature behind you, you’ll meet the rooftops of the town interspersed with city trees. Low-rise housing and businesses of historic downtown / Whiskey Row. {The city’s powers that be are adamant about low-level structures and kudos to them!!} The magnificent historic Courthouse. Nearer still, the sharp sloping roof of a church the shade of sandstone. Nearer still, a telephone pole and goliath brown rooftop with skylights. That would be the library. 🙂

From the telephone pole and nearer this way still, a tree. A huge tree. I can’t tell you the type but an arborist certainly could! Its trunk is thick and steadfast, its outreaching branches muscled and vigorous and the smaller branches, twigs-sized, spindly and chaotic and barren like the whole of the tree.

I’m not a tree identifier but I talk to trees and they talk to me. And this tree, only a portion of which is viewable from my window, tells me:

“I am secure here. I like it here. It is winter and I am here, steady and strong and grounded. Spring will spring in her time and then so shall I, a verdant vigorous green that shall absolutely delight your sights and senses!”

I’ve been in this studio only since November and thus not witnessed the changes of seasons so I’ve that to anticipate!

Expansive is the one word to describe the view from my window. Where sky — usually that striking inspiring crisp cloudless blue typical of Arizona and desert — and terrain meet and harmonize, by a direct line of vision.

The chain-link fence demarcating the boundaries of my little patio is easily overlooked — overshadowed and outshined by this great view of my town that I love and come to call home a little bit more every day.

I’ve said it to others and I’ll say it again here. My studio is little, cramped and confining. Were this studio facing, say, the wall of a building, it would be a coffin. The view is the highlight, the selling point, the lead perk that overrides the “negatives” (of small and no bathtub).

There’s truth in one word x 3: location, location, location. Living atop a hill behind the library, singularly and collectively! It’s the perfect place for me at this time (noisy inconsiderate neighbors above notwithstanding)!

It’s the perfect marriage, for me.

Library. Words. Writing. Writer that I am and writer that I increasingly seek to become through publication.


High places. I’ve always loved being up there in high places!

If I wrote that in childhood I spent more time high high high high up in the highest branches that could hold my petite size and weight — therefore enabling me to climb with strong innate agility (that remains lo these many decades later!) quite high and deep into trees indeed! — than I did in the house, well, it wouldn’t be altogether accurate. However, tree tops have always been my place of safety. The sole refuge into which I escaped because home was hell and hell home.

P.S. I’m not a liberal tree-hugger! However, I do know my place with and within trees. Perched high in the branches like a bird is best!

Spacious describes the view.

And blessed describes me.


I’m not a crazy lady. Or a Deadhead. Just look like one.

If whatever’s happening New Year’s Eve prognosticates the tone for the coming year, as it has for years, I’m in for a lively* 2015!

*a conservative way of saying wild

Let’s just say my new year’s eve was more like a 25-year-old’s than, well, someone’s much older. 😉 Perhaps it’s the spirit of youthfulness that joy imparts.

Perhaps it was, in part, the two pints of porter plus the rye whiskey from a flask tucked into my inner coat pocket that I made sure to sip away from the patrolling eyes of the cops on Whiskey Row/Courthouse Square enlivened by partiers and the boot drop.

I think it’s the joy and the abandonment to it fueled in small part by the porters & whiskey! A helluva night!

Not often I find myself hikin’ it a mile or so across town at 3:30 in the morning … in the snow … in 21-degree weather! Or ever. Just how things unfolded.

Fortunately that main street was cleared of snow & ice. Mostly. Fortunately I didn’t slip and fall. Wasn’t dawdling either! Interspersed even a little light jogging. That inclination to stay warm and get home will fuel a girl.

Quite the sight I must’ve been too! This little thing all bundled up in two jackets — one white and one brown — and two scarves — one white, one red — and a striped purple & turquoise rabbit hair beanie bookin’ it down Gurley Street deep into the night!

Oh! And let’s not overlook the white balloon! Wrapped around my wrist, trailing. A balloon I’d picked up off a downtown street at the boot drop a few hours earlier.

I looked like a crazy lady. Or a Grateful Dead groupie racing to the tour bus.

I can only say that it’s a good thing I live in a town that while being very conservative has its quirks and eccentrics. I might be one of ’em. Okay, I am.

Yet there’s such a good spirit in this town. A natural match. An affinity. For me. Not for all. I make that clear to locals and out-of-towners. Prescott, Arizona, is not for everyone. It’s for me, however, absolutely. Joyfully!

Had a cop passed and spotted this ruffian-looking woman with a white balloon dashing down the street in the middle of the night — and believe me, I was spottable on a street largely emptied of pedestrians and vehicles! — he might’ve pulled over to inquire about my business in that late hour.  Or why was I hastening so?

It didn’t happen. If it had, I had a perfectly sound explanation. I was on my way home — I was prepared to state an address if needed — from some strange event. Something totally unexpected, something you couldn’t have seen coming but if ya had you’d take it on anyhow ’cause it was just that spontaneous & fun in a weird way.

Makes for a memorable New Year’s! And a good story, untold & unseen save out there in the ethers.

Happy 2015 to me! I may wanna grasp the seat of my pants. Looks like a ride! A joyful exuberant year. One that if I play my cards smartly — therein lies the ticket — I could accomplish inroads and gains that’ll be lasting and are necessary to creating the foundation of my life that’s much needed, sorely so, and overdue.

I won’t address the alternative, the consequences of if I don’t play those cards smartly. My eyes are on what’s ahead — that big bright light that’s ahead like a spotlight.

I prefer to choose positivity over negativity in thought. Promise over same ol’ same ol’ patterns that have outlived their usefulness, no longer serve, ones that I’m already shedding and will continue to drop into Life’s Bucket of Bye-Bye.

I hope a good new year’s was had by all. They can’t all be good. I know that; I know it well. So if yours was one of those “less-than-good,” I wish for you blessings and guidance and protection from the divine and powers that are to get you where you need to be. Even if it’s as simple as “not here.” ‘Cause I’ve been there too. In significant, meaningful, all-encompassing ways.


Akemashita omedetto!

Happy New Year!

May 2015 be bright and blessed.