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.
Living, and running the family business from this tiny trailer, is an exercise in imustbenuts, for my first nature is to produce an aesthetically pleasing environment.
Our decision to move into this tuna can wasn’t much of a decision; it was actually our only option if we wanted to stay in Florida and live independently.
As a child I had a fascination with birds, always wishing I could fly high above the stained sidewalks of my gritty life.
When she told me that she wanted to write books I knew that she had suffered. Only the scarred would dare to write, to make sense of, or at least to look at, the entrails of life. I wanted to pry, to find out why this perfect little prom princess would want to write books.
Humans can be porcupinish in nature. You get too close and their adrenaline kicks in, triggering a panicky spray of barbed quills, homing in on your most vulnerable places, usually the face and eyes.
And why would one place their face so close to a human? Because of love and friendship of course. Because someone has to take the risk, step in deep, show their soul, and because one is willing to believe the best, for the conflict exists only within
It’s early, and eerie, and I’m getting goose flesh as my morning walk leads me into some really dense fog. I have to push myself across the threshold of hesitation,
Valentine’s schmalentine’s, who gives a crap? Is this day just for daters and maters or for the general population? I’ve been married 35 years and I’ve yet to get a valentine gift. Of course I’m not the type to make a fuss. I like to silently seethe. Actually, I come from Worcester County, which happens […]
I was taking my usual walk when I noticed a fallen leaf on the grassy path ahead. I couldn’t help but feel a pinch of pity wondering if this leaf knew that it was dying. I paused waiting for the rise and fall a faint pulse but the leaf remained motionless staring into the dappled […]
I thought the year 2012 would kill me, but I made it through, entering 2013 with steady eyes and heightened expectations—silly silly girl. Turns out 2013 had its own plans for Leah, taking the opportunity to teach me some real stunners. I’m not talking cliché quips, or token phrases, but cut out my heart and […]
Last Minute Tree By: Leah Griffith I was about eleven when Alberta Hazard, took me along to help her buy a Christmas tree. It was the night before Christmas, pretty late to be buying a tree, but I was excited to go. This would be my first time breaking away from the nest and seeing how […]
When a store clerk asks me, “Do you have our rewards card? “ I can never remember if I do or I don’t. So…out comes the over bulging wallet as I sift through the random contents looking for a card that I may or may not have, while the people behind me shuffle and sigh […]
In seeking to write about Thanksgiving I found myself reaching back to the dim corners of yesterday, uncovering a misty vision of “little me” waiting in my crib for Ma to come and fetch me. I was standing on my toes holding onto the rail, bouncing as I begged, calling, but not crying. And then […]
My magical little niece Ember This post isn’t going to be one of my usual esoteric romps. This one is more of a rant, but if I don’t let out I just might explode. I’m really grateful that I got to be a kid back in the 1960’s before society turned into a neurotic knot […]
Morning yawns before me whispering blue whispering blue The same hungry bird circles And there I go again tripping over blue tripping over blue Leah Griffith
The thing that I’ve always liked about Halloween is that it temporarily demystifies evil, giving us permission to laugh at, and perhaps even celebrate, the dark side of everything. The common bat with its leathery wings, hyper-flapping against the tranquility of twilight, becomes a prop for hauntings and mayhem as we mimic devils, zombies, and […]
Photograph by Bruce Dale I haven’t been blogging lately, because I haven’t really had the energy or the urgency to speak. I’ve been in an “in-between” place of questions and guesses, venturing into the now, with now stories to hold my attention, and now beliefs to cushion the path…just me looking and pondering—asking the big […]
I’ve been rising early lately, walking the long halls of the morning, not certain where to put myself. My thoughts are what cause me to pace. Invasive little buggers that hijack me on my way to my pre-dawn pee, unsettling murmurs with spikes and spears, finding the softest places in my heart—piercing the pinky folds […]
Writing a blog after more than a month is like coming home after a long trip and wondering if the dogs will still remember me. Of course they always remember me, but there is always that sliver of tension between the opening of the front door and the first wag of a happy tail. As […]
Vacation laundry;) I know it’s been a while since I last posted a blog. It’s not that I intended to stay away for so long. Let’s just say that life has guided me down some new roads. Roads snaking through bombshells, beauty, and blind corners. I’ve barely had time to catch my breath because of […]
I’ve kept clear of writing lately opting instead to dip my brush into tiny puddles of primaries and pastels. It’s not that I haven’t felt the urge to write, but rather I’ve grown tired of my own words. For me writing is a reflective vocation where my words spell out the contents of my heart. […]
Transcendent Tango – In recognition of the close of Poetry Month I have revised an old poem I wrote. I’m dedicating it to April, a pretty month, honoring her devotion to hope, awakenings, and vibrant new beginnings. Transcendent Tango The sky is a moody companion driving calm white billows into foamy currents over blue piercing thunderous […]