More about Robin
As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being.~ Carl Jung
I have been a writer and a reader for as long as I can remember. I started taking photographs when I was eleven.
My grandmother paid me for chores with books. Books are still my favourite reward system.
She had the complete works of Shakespeare. On cold winter mornings I would read his sonnets out loud standing over a floor furnace while my flannel nightgown ballooned around me. I liked the way his words felt on my tongue. She liked the sound of my voice.
When I was eleven my cousin sold magazine subscriptions for his school. He sold so many that he won a camera which he gave to me. That was also the year I discovered The Beatles. Nothing was ever the same after that.
I have survived a lifetime of psychological abuse, some of it rather recent. Trauma Recovery is an important topic to me. However just before Christmas I was diagnosed with breast cancer, invasive ductal carcinoma. I’m still discovering what this means but I do know nothing will ever be the same again. But then, perhaps nothing ever is…
I am a writer, poet, photographer, reader, and dreamer. I whisper to stars, run with dogs, talk to birds, chase waves at the seaside and get lost in forests.
I have been a traveller, a restless seeker for someplace called home.
These days you will mostly find me dancing on the Sussex Coast of England with my British husband, my aging terrier, and my mad, if joyful, English Springer Spaniel with a notebook in one hand and a camera in the other.
I am an American living in the United Kingdom. It has become that place called home.
I am lifted up by Photography, Henri Cartier-Bresson, Georgia O’Keeffe, Erotic Art, Pre-Raphaelite Art, all art, Anais Nin, Mary Oliver, Sylvia Plath, Wendell Berry, Pablo Neruda, the Beat Poets, all poetry, Ancient History, Megalithic Monuments, The Scottish Highlands, Cornwall, Chalice Well in Glastonbury, Avebury, the North Coast of California, dirty bars in The French Quarter, the Oklahoma Wetlands, Massachusetts, Connecticut, the birthplace of a rowdy, unpredictable nation, Georgia peaches, Trees in all their places and guises, Astrology, Mysterious Oracles, Magic, the smile in my son’s voice, the awe and wonder on my husband’s face, doggie kisses, the love of old friends, Folk Music, Rock Music, Classical Music, all music, a good book, cameras, mystery, sunshine, blue sky, the hand of the Goddess, the breath of God, the sparkle of the stars, laughter, joy… hope.