Entries by Roxanne Claire

Skeleton Ball

Yesterday was the 9th anniversary of my mother’s death. Last week I put up my annual Day of the Dead altar. Amid the sugar skulls and paper mache skeletons are photographs. There is my mother in her wedding dress, the one she wore to marry my father. My grandmother sewing a quilt. My father holding […]

My Grandmother’s Kitchen

Today started off gray and rainy. I took my camera to my studio and began photographing a pair of salt and pepper shakers I inherited from my grandmother. I left the dust and grime on them and paid loving attention to the cracks in the ceramic. I sat for a moment, trying to visualize where […]


The day before yesterday my younger son and I went next door to use the neighbor’s pool. Or rather I went to watch him play in the water. As I watched him cavorting, my attention was drawn to the surface of the water. The late afternoon sun of early fall was already starting to set, […]


Yesterday I folded towels. Holding them with my chin while arms brought the edges together, I felt their heat against my chest and I inhaled the scent of hot metal and Bounce. Running my fingers over their nubby texture, I rolled them into fat sausages, the better to stand them in their woven basket, and […]


Yesterday I pulled a considerable amount of wild morning glories off my front rose bush, and pruned away the dying and leggy branches which bore testimony to a certain benign neglect. I clipped a single rose, a fragrant Maggie, some black-eyed susans and both blue and white lantana. In the house I searched out a […]