Too Late?

Every year he drives up from Washington parks his camper on the land spends weeks watching the clapping of leaves in the wind, how the river goosenecks in the valley, […]

Too Late? Read More »


The snow kept falling and ice seized as winter pressed dark and hard Exhaustion mounted layered high as the banks of a deep river draining your strength, dry. Though no

Sanctuary Read More »


          They say when you come to the end of your life           your memory reaches back to those practices       

IMPACT Read More »


Human artifacts poke out of the ice: a thermos of coffee, magazines, a woman’s purse, shoes, a child’s doll: intact after the plane crashed in icy blue mountains circling the

Pleistocene Read More »

Snow City

Only 2 cents per acre Seward’s folly, “Wal-russia”  tent city at the mouth of Ship Creek, 1914 where Quonset huts were first homes, “a half tin can turned on its

Snow City Read More »


Welcome to the creative playground of Image, Sculpture, Verse.  I live in a river town nestled in the Chugach Mountain Range of Southcentral Alaska.



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