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stopping with eyes wide open
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the Weather Report
from Direct Observation

Reading List

A good day for a walk-about. Clark Fork River westward downstream from Higgins Street bridge.
Vote ‘Em Out !

Reading List

[Top 20 Banned Books in the US Public Libraries the Last Decade]

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie
Captain Underpants (series) by Dav Pilkey
Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher
Looking for Alaska by John Green
George by Alex Gino
And Tango Makes Three by Justin Richardson and Peter Parnell
Drama by Raina Telgemeier
Fifty Shades of Grey by EL James
Internet Girls (series) by Lauren Myracle
The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison
The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini
Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins
I Am Jazz by Jazz Jennings and Jessica Herthel
The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
Bone (series) by Jeff Smith
The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls
Two Boys Kissing by David Levithan
A Day in the Life of Marlon Bundo by Jill Twiss
Sex Is a Funny Word by Cory Silverberg

Mostly Red




A Silence Now

I miss my Dad. There is a silence now.



Out & About and Back Home

A month away and a childhood of memories and stuff behind me I drove back home this week.
I had a good visit with brother Bruce and in spending time with the estate we shared our memories, loss, struggles to become, and that challenging rise into our own self that is not that our our parents. A struggle that goes on and on.
Bruce and my Dad were great with picnics. We had a nice one at Lake of the Isles then walked around the lake.
During WWII my Dad was stationed in the Philippines and in charge of a Japanese POW camp. In this capacity he befriended a prisoner of his same rank, playing cribbage together and who sketched these for him.
We returned their rings to the earth with their ashes.
My Mother liked her pearls. This one from the 1950’s when we lived in the Philippines … I think I’ll wear it on my pinky as it fits nicely.
I loaded up the truck and pulled a trailer back to Montana.
The islands move upstream in the Yellowstone. Every time passing by this place along the free-flowing Yellowstone River we stop’d to watch, to see, to experience the corridors of movement; water, air, birds, clouds, wind, railroads, cars and trucks, information, DNA, animals, seeds, dust …. all in constant interwoven movement and change.
… and back home to the great tomato crop of 2020.IMG_5591

Whatever is not stone is light

Today would have been my Dad’s 99th birthday celebration. Instead his obituary appeared in the Sunday paper. We visited Lakewood where his and his wife’s ashes are. This letting go of the stories and the place that formed my early years (1950-1970) has been a gift; a doorway opens into a new freedom and adventure. Lines by the Mexican poet Octovio Paz.
Close your eyes and open them
There is nobody not even yourself
Whatever is not stone is light

Obituary for Robert “Bob” Holloway
Brother Bruce beside the local library where I spent many summer days. A delightful walk I made many times with my late sister.
At Lakewood Cemetery today.
My Dad planned ahead ….
September :: the month the world began.IMG_5554

I am drawn to Water, I am made of Water

Colville River, Chewelah Washington, above the Columbia River.WWPD-Bridge-2012Jones Beach on the lower Kettle River, Washington, before it reaches the Columbia River.KettleRiverLake Merritt estuary, Oakland, California.
Lake Merritt Oct 17 2010-2
Tomales Point, Point Reyes Seashore, the Pacific Ocean.

Tomales Point Triptych

River Bend on the Clark Fork of the Columbia


My Voice

Do I live my life or that of my fathers, or mothers, or society ? Finding my voice, that is the work before me.Shop_8_2020

Just Because I am so Lonely Tonight

Extended exposure 120 format pinhole images beside Lake Pend Oreillelake pend oreille
Lake Pend Oreille at N-SID-SEN 3
lake tree roots

the BirthDay Poems

the Birthday Poems

The Place itSelf


It is the journey that matters

“It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters, in the end.”

― Ursula K. Le Guin, The Left Hand of Darkness

Travel images of a Holloway along his most favorite of hollow-ways. My first journeys without end or beginning happened here, explorations without time, along the abandoned tracks of an old trolley, starting in the late-1950s.