Searching for Books

April 17, 2026 / still a dreamer / Leave a comment

Are you a reader? Me, too. Sometimes it’s challenging to find the time to read, or sometimes to find the right book for the space we’re in. That can be a tough one.

But then, during all the deliberation of what I want to read at the moment, comes my county’s huge annual book sale. Last year, they had 60,000 books available, in every genre you can imagine.

The only way to do this is to come with a list and try to stick to it, because inevitably there will also be a book by an author you love that you hadn’t thought of; a copy in brand new condition to replace your old, beat-up paperback; or maybe you’ll just want to take a peek at the art section. Or maybe at the cookbooks. Wait – now they have jigsaw puzzles? (Yes, they do.)

The Hunterdon County Library Annual Book Sale is a dangerous place to go. Especially when you can come out with 15 books for $30 or $15, depending if you go Saturday or Sunday.

Last year’s very small haul ($4.50) – I went with a really tight rein on myself, as I’ve been trying to push books out of the house, not bring more in! Two of these were replacement copies – one for one of my top seven favorite books (The Art of Racing in the Rain). I read the rest, and am in the ongoing process with two, which are non-fiction.

What else is nice? Being in such wonderful company, where every person you meet is an avid reader, and where, depending which section you’re in, you can get solid recommendations and insights.

Making my list now ….

Poetry – Day 12

April 12, 2026April 17, 2026 / still a dreamer / Leave a comment

April is National Poetry Month; the second poem posted. I am so moved by the way some people are able to share their feelings through words so simply, yet words which linger so intently in my heart, as if I had invited them in to stay.

I Am Offering This Poem

I am offering this poem to you,
since I have nothing else to give.
Keep it like a warm coat
when winter comes to cover you,
or like a pair of thick socks
the cold cannot bite through,

I love you,

I have nothing else to give you,
so it is a pot full of yellow corn
to warm your belly in winter,
it is a scarf for your head, to wear
over your hair, to tie up around your face,

I love you,

Keep it, treasure this as you would
if you were lost, needing direction,
in the wilderness life becomes when mature;
and in the corner of your drawer,
tucked away like a cabin or hogan
in dense trees, come knocking,
and I will answer, give you directions,
and let you warm yourself by this fire,
rest by this fire, and make you feel safe

I love you,

It’s all I have to give,
and all anyone needs to live,
and to go on living inside,
when the world outside
no longer cares if you live or die;
remember,

I love you.

–Jimmy Santiago Baca

Please read about this poet, Jimmy Santiago Baca, to learn about his background and the life that inspired his writing.

Photo by Order Luck/Pexels – @outxforder

Noticing in Times of Abuse

April 8, 2026 / still a dreamer / 9 Comments

A gun held to the head of another, albeit lowered, the trigger not pulled, is no less of an abuse, whether to a country or an individual.

However, we can still choose to notice beauty around us, and hope together for a more loving and harmonious world.

Poetry – Day 6

April 6, 2026April 6, 2026 / still a dreamer / Leave a comment

April is National Poetry Month. During the month, I will occasionally share poetry that speaks to me, hopefully, to you, too.

What Kind of Times Are These

There’s a place between two stands of trees where the grass grows uphill
and the old revolutionary road breaks off into shadows
near a meeting-house abandoned by the persecuted
who disappeared into those shadows.

I’ve walked there picking mushrooms at the edge of dread, but don’t be fooled
this isn’t a Russian poem, this is not somewhere else but here,
our country moving closer to its own truth and dread,
its own ways of making people disappear.

I won’t tell you where the place is, the dark mesh of the woods
meeting the unmarked strip of light—
ghost-ridden crossroads, leafmold paradise:
I know already who wants to buy it, sell it, make it disappear.

And I won’t tell you where it is, so why do I tell you
anything? Because you still listen, because in times like these
to have you listen at all, it’s necessary
to talk about trees.

– Adrienne Rich, 1991

Photo by Jen Theodore/Unsplash

Seeing Art – Princeton University Art Museum

March 24, 2026 / still a dreamer / Leave a comment

What kind of museum do you want to go to? What do you want to see?

“Fish” – Zhang Hongtu, 1985, Acrylic on Canvas

For me, as an artist, photographer, writer, I want to see art. I want to see what will make my eyes open wider.

“Moonrise” – George Inness, 1888, Oil on canvas

I want to see what will touch my very being and remind me of who I am. Because in today’s intense, fast-moving world, it can be easy to sometimes forget.

“Moon Beam” – Pat Steir, 2005, Oil on canvas

I want to try and understand another human being who looks at the same thing as me, but sees it in such a vastly different way.

L to R – “Tiger Drinking from A Stream” – Yumashiro Yuhi, October 1761, Ink, color, gold pigment on silk; “Bridge to Heaven 2006.2” – Arnold Chang, 2006, Ink on paper; “An Immortal’s Abode Above the Clouds” – Gong Xian, mid 1680s, ink on silk.

I want to see what someone creates who has a totally different life and totally different experiences than me.

“To Be Sold” – Titus Kaphar, 2018, Oil on canvas with rusted nails. References the sale of 6 enslaved persons belonging to a former president of the university on this site, 1761-1766.

I want to get my heart cracked open a little.

“A.M.X.” – Nancy Grossman, 1969-1970, Wood with nailed and stitched leather.

I want to go home and keep thinking for a while, not just of what I saw, but of what the artist stated their intentions were.

“Naga” – Tuan Andrew Nguyen, 2024, Primarily pounded and polished brass plates made from unexploded bomb metal and artillery shells.

I want to take in these feelings from another’s visions, and I want them to call to me, wash over me, not to drown me, but to pull me … me … to the surface.

“Painting” – Willem De Kooning, 1948, Enamel and oil on canvas.

This museum visit is the first chance I’ve had to get out and see art in a while. I’d forgotten how intense an experience it can be. How wonderful.

“Self-Portrait” – Robert Mapplethorpe, 1972, Photo silkscreen

The art pictured here is all from the recently reopened (10/31/2025) Princeton University Art Museum, located on the Princeton, NJ campus. The construction took three years, and was built on the same site where the previous museum had existed and was then razed.

“Dogariya – The Queen’s Guard, from the series Anima Project” – Marcia Kure, 2022, Kola nut, indigo, and watercolor on board.

The PUAM houses both classical and contemporary art from around the world. Art pictured here is only from two small special exhibits, one on photography and another on Willem de Kooning, and a larger exhibit of pieces recently donated or promised upon the reopening. Some of what I photographed was in the hallways connecting exhibits. One could spend days there. I’ll be going back.