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once upon a time i was the wife of a brave, strong, wonderful Dragon of a man.  he was a Marine, Force Recon Marine, one of the bad boys.  we were older when we met, a second marriage for the both of us, but in each other we had found home.  we lived in a magical place called Rockport, MA.  i was the quiet artist who took photographs, wrote poems and books, designed and built stained glass windows, created textile art, painted in oils and acrylic, and did wood carvings.  he was my Marine, my Dragon who came in to my life to share his stories, his sense of adventure, his laughter, and his love.  he showed me what it was to fully live all the days of my life.  he showed me what it meant to love and be loved.

with my two children, we became a smal tribe facing together whatever life was going to throw at us.  we got my children through college and out into the world.  we hiked all over Cape Ann; for me to take photographs and him to walk point, to walk behind me, and to walk beside me.  we were priviledged to hear the stories of the people we met along our walks.  it was all because of him, my Dragon.  his gregarious nature opened the world to me, a world i would have shied away from.

i adore him as a person, as a man, as a friend, lover and husband.  i deeply respected him as a warrior and tried to give him a serenity he hadn't had since before Vietnam.  we were planning the rest of our lives together in a house by the oean.  the rest of our lives ended with his sudden, tragic death at 12:03 AM on 9 February 2009.

my children came and moved me down to North Carolina to be close to my daughter.  and all i can do is endure this great loss.

we are told to write about what we know.  all i know is grief and my art.  i know some stories and that is what is here.  a few stories.  photos of my art.  my own photo essays.  and my grief about what surviving his death feels like

i am sad.  i am a soul living without her mate.  i am still an artist, still a writer, but my voice is now heard only through my work.  i have found a silent place to live where i now make, mostly, Memory Quilts.  i take the clothing of the deceased and listen to the grief-stricken.  i listen to their stories.  how long it's been.  how bad it was.  how sad it still is.  then i create a tangible comfort out of those articles of clothing.

my Dragon is such a lovely man.  he was so strong in body and spirit.  i had faith that he could do anything he set his mind to.  he just couldn't stay.  it is a difficult and lonely journey to be without my hero, my Dragon, my love.  and it's just getting started.

my grief blog is:

the website for my art is: