As I drove to Afton Press this April morning, my mind occupied with writing new sentences, suddenly I took a mental detour. The Jazz radio station, 89.3, caught my ear and attention and pulled me out of my writing ruminations. The slide guitar…yes, I heard that instrument in the...
Time flies, but so does all of life. Since my last blog, October Blues, I took a break from blogging, and instead focused my time and attention on researching and writing ballet’s history in Minnesota. I’ve gathered research in all its forms—print, digital, audio, and video. Now’s the time...
By Georgia Finnegan Listen! The wind is rising, and the air is wild with leaves, we have had our summer evenings, now for October eves! - Humbert Wolfe. My October blues push me to go outside, acknowledge summer’s passing, and imbibe in the intrinsic beauty of autumn. I shiver as...
By Georgia Finnegan Summer thrills me. Its kaleidoscope of color, clouds painting pictures in the light blue sky, and the sun’s warmth on my Minnesota white skin make me wake up early and go to bed late. Summer’s early morning light draws me outside. I stroll across the grass, a...
By Georgia Finnegan Rivers draw me to them. Flowing waters, gurlgling ripples, and iridescent rocks near a shoreline entice me to linger at a riverside and idly watch as present time moves on. Perhaps this enticement is rooted in my Native American background; or, perhaps from living close to a...
By Georgia Finnegan When June comes to Minnesota, my spirit soars. I imbibe in all that June offers. It bursts forth with garden-fresh produce, Flag Day, Father’s Day, and summer solstice celebrations. My body sways and moves when my memory sings a few lines from Rodgers and Hammerstein’s jovial salute...
By Georgia Finnegan It’s May. It’s May. The Lusty Month of May. I distinctly remember May Day, 1977. An early morning dawn woke me with its rose-dipped wisps of sunlight streaming through my windows. I quietly got out of bed, headed to the hutch cabinet in the living room and...
By Georgia Finnegan A thin veil of darkness covers the first rays of daylight as I begin my morning rhythm. Only the percolating sound of coffee interrupts my quiet time. I step into my study, open the second drawer of my 1950’s desk, and grasp my waiting journal and daily...
By Georgia Finnegan Forty years ago, a friend once told me, “Never stop thinking and imagining.” I haven’t stopped. "I am absorbed in the magic of movement and light. Movement never lies. It is the magic of what I call the outer space of the imagination." This Graham quotation touches...