I don’t know why I believe that I’ll find the truth about America in Mississippi. It’s a dreamscape, really. So overlaid with lies, oppressions, and Faulknerian legend that to expect anything authentic about the place is foolhardy. But I persist nonetheless because I’m a sucker for myth and Southern lit. Last summer it was Clarksdale that called. I was passing through on my annual summer journey from Virginia to teach in Dallas. So we stopped for a couple of nights at the Shack Up Inn. Don’t judge us. O, go ahead. I certainly did. … Continue reading At the Crossroads in Clarksdale→
When I first moved to Qatar ten years ago, I was disappointed to find that the desert of the Qatar peninsula (on the northeastern coast of the Arabian peninsula) was not as lush as that of Arizona, where I previously had lived and fallen in love with Sonoran plants and animals. At first, Qatar’s desert appeared to be nothing but a barren wasteland. Then I was introduced to a local artist and wildflower expert who, every spring after the rains, took us out into the desert to search for flowers and other … Continue reading Desert Ecology: Lessons and Visions→
As I write, Halloween is upon us. Not that I need to say anything. Signs of its approach have been around for a while. It is unlikely to slip by unnoticed. Depending on how you measure such things (public displays, retail spending, poll numbers), Halloween is challenging Thanksgiving for second place among our culture’s favorite holidays, and it has the momentum going forward. Poor All Saints’ Day, the original reason, after all, that there is such a thing as Halloween. Safe to say that most people who enjoy the make-believe, the trick-or-treating, or the … Continue reading All Souls→
On Wednesday, September 17th Jane Smiley presented a lecture and reading from her new novel, Some Luck, at Sweet Briar College in Amherst, Virginia. The novel is the first in a planned trilogy, The Last Hundred Years, about an Iowa farm family. Coincidentally, that same day the National Book Awards announced her one of the nominees for the fiction long list. Sweet Briar’s Memorial Chapel was filled with students, professors and a sprinkling of the general public. Behind the lectern, J.S., attractive and slender, in her sixties, with shoulder length blonde hair, was personable and … Continue reading Novelist Jane Smiley at Sweet Briar→
Like many other people, I have had Ferguson, Missouri on my mind in recent weeks. I have been thinking most directly, of course, about Michael Brown, his parents, family members, friends, all those who feel his loss in a very personal way. I have been thinking about other parents who have lost their children, and all those black parents who worry whenever their teenage sons are out in the world and vulnerable. I have been trying to take in the range of emotions that have been on display as people have taken to the streets … Continue reading Ferguson→
The other day I walked out to my mailbox. There was an official letter from the City of Los Angeles parking violations bureau. Hmmm. I know what this is about. My daughter has not paid a past due traffic ticket. I’m irritated. I told her about this ticket two months ago. In my head I begin to compose my text to her: Why didn’t you pay this ticket? It’s now gone up over a hundred and fifty dollars. How can you neglect to take care of this? It’s not responsible. What’s with the self-inflicted financial … Continue reading Revising the Text→
BEYOND THE PULPIT The Dreaming I am a retired minister. That is what the umbrella title for the occasional pieces that may appear in this space refers to. It is fair warning that what I write about may have something to do with religion, though what that something will be remains to be seen and may not be immediately recognizable or easily definable. For example, this week’s subject matter: My wife and I recently spent a Saturday morning at the Kluge Ruhe Museum. Kluge Ruhe is a small treasure located in the Pantops area of … Continue reading The Dreaming by Jim Bundy→
Home Schooling “What are you doing?” Juliana’s voice drifted in around the corner of the living room, coming to rest finally in his willing ear. He had left her on the green chintz couch with the cat, reading Ovid. “Opening some wine.” The cork split a final time and Del pushed it down into the bottle with a jab. He poured two glasses, fishing out bits of cork that floated … Continue reading Coming Soon! Previews of Summer Issue→
I wasn’t a natural writer but I always wanted to be one. Born in New York City, I soon moved to Providence, Rhode Island with my family and then to Washington, D.C. where my father began working for the C.I.A. After a few more years, we moved to Germany with his job. I attended boarding schools in Switzerland and Concord, Massachusetts. I had a rooting nature like a tree, but with all the moving around I got turned into a rolling stone. I found life on the road exhilarating, painful, and confusing. I depended on … Continue reading Getting Over Myself by Jane Barnes→
A Writer Retreats I was on a quest. A quest for a room of one’s own to finish my draft, far from the hurly-burly of New York City. A lucky Google search led me to The Porches Writing Retreat and a photo of an antebellum house in the James River Valley of Virginia and the Blue Ridge Mountains. Ladylike and pristine, she’s perched in all white on top of a green hill. The lower porch is wide, welcoming and wears azalea and iris and every manner of flowers by day. Her lines are elegant, her … Continue reading Green Fields. Blue Mountains. A White House. A Yellow Dog.→
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