My dad was an old movie reel flickering in my mind, with imaginary memories, conjured by a credulous child, intoxicated with prime time fathers, and aching for paternal adoration.
About Leah Griffith
Posts by Leah Griffith:
Death has a way of equalizing life, causing priorities to slip effortlessly into place.. Not our Eric… the genteel giant, and dignified Baltimorean, with Clint Eastwood grit and a Mr. French accent.
I wake to the quiet—a split of time held in smoky purity …but then a thought imposes–a heavy tsk-tsk that makes my head bow and my stomach curl. It’s a call to suffering, a shift towards fear…
I thought I’d climb a castle’s tower, and punctuate through guarded clouds, favored with the highest views, through secret doors concealed from crowds.
Laine Cunningham, author, professional editor, and winner of five international awards for fiction and nonfiction, took the time to interview me about the writing of my novel, Cosette’s Tribe.
I was directed to write a love letter to myself by my wildly loving friend, J Clement Wall. My initial thought was “how romantic, a love letter to Leah”.
I always feel as though I’m being allowed in on a great secret when I sit with nature and it was no different with these hens.
I never did find a place for a tree, or tinsel, or any other accessories to glam up my tiny trailer for the season. This year has been the most unadorned holiday ever.
The world has shifted, and for me, Christmas has shifted too. For those of you who don’t know this, we’ve recently moved from our 2500 sq ft home to a 300 sq ft trailer.