Cold feet under a warm blanket, steam over an empty mug--rain splatters on dry window pane--open journals of closed memories... tears of laughter and joy of pain... schmaltz of diametric morning.

The grace of writing is upon me.I love writing. I write daily.

A daily written thankful gratitude is a heavenly blessing.

Often as writers, we are surprised by what we learn about ourselves. It runs counter to what we’ve thought about who we are. But it is closer to the truth.

These empty pages are your future, soon to become your past. They will read the most personal tale you shall ever find in a book.