Philadelphia

Years ago, I made a small box in a silversmithing class that illustrated a Sufi tale called "Fatima, the Spinner, and the Tent". Inside the box, I put a tiny treasure chest to represent the riches bestowed upon Fatima at the end of the story. I went to a local gem shop and bought a tiny diamond, sapphire, emerald, ruby, and piece of gold. They were each the size of a pinhead, and all the jewels together cost less than $20. They were small, but they were real.

It turned out that Fatima's journey, looking in each moment like never ending struggle and disaster, was ultimately leading to her own true happiness.

In the summer of 2010, with everything falling apart around me, I reached out to create my own tiny treasure chest of things I'd always longed to be. Small, but real. I longed to live on the coast of Maine, my days formed by the rhythm of nature, and I wondered what it would be like to truly have time to write.

In Philadelphia, I wondered what it would be like to spend my days as a painter...

Above, John Hancock, poised to make his freedom declaring, no apologies signature, inspired me as I strolled past Independence Hall. He with his feather and parchment, me in the glow of my laptop.