Columns

When the Congressional Budget Office (CBO) reported on the probable impact of the first TrumpCare bill, I wrote this rant:
“What the CBO measures is dollars. What it doesn’t measure is human misery: The leading cause of bankruptcy in this country is medical debt. The most contentious marital issue is money. Divorces rise in times of financial distress, and divorce, in turn, is the greatest cause of financial distress among women, especially those with children. Suicide rates rise at times of recession and depression, measured all the way back into the 1930’s.

I was at my third-grader’s school, Crystal River Elementary School, in an after-school art class watching children apply glaze to ceramic bowls. One student was using the “splatter” technique, and the glaze sprayed anyone who was standing nearby. My maroon dress had just been adorned with a new pattern: small aqua dots of pottery glaze. It was messy, beautiful and funny all at once.
My friend, Maria, looked at my dress and laughed. I wracked my brain trying to remember the Spanish word for “clean” or “wash” so I could ask: Do you know if it will wash out?

To the greatest, most wonderful community in the world,
The world of public education is difficult, but I believe that the model we have at Roaring Fork High School represents the best of what it can be: student-centered, character-driven, authentically rigorous and focused on opportunities for all. It is and has been the professional honor of my life to serve in a school like this where students are kind and know that they can change the world.

Finally, past the musical chairs of elections and Stacy’s lamented move up the Crystal, Carbondale is settled in with a well-qualified, dynamic, and level-headed board of trustees for the next year at least. I can’t think of a better moment to tackle some tough issues.
The toughest issues facing this board are intertwined and familiar: growth, affordable housing and community character. Let’s start, roughly, with growth. It’s happening fast.

Any space geeks out there? As an independent artist and illustrator (living and working here in Carbondale) I find the subject of space fascinating. I suppose I “geek out” on it occasionally through my artwork since astronauts, constellations, and rockets make semi-frequent appearances in my paintings.

Last week, lured by abnormally-early spring weather, I started repairing the stone walls that enclose my raised garden beds. This spring task was memorialized by Robert Frost in “Mending Wall,” a poem that talks about two neighbors rebuilding the wall between their farms.

Spring training is here and I can finally get into my favorite sport. That’s right, you pigskinheads. This is one Coloradan who loves baseball and doesn’t care much for football.
What’s more, I’m a life-long, die-hard, true-blue Cub fan, 2016 was the best year of my life, and I’m so looking forward to 2017.

All right, since no one’s gonna come right out and say it, I will; Trump has a bromance with Putin. I believe Rosneft (Russia’s state oil company) sold 20% to the Trump Organization on the condition that sanctions would be taken care of. Soon. And then Flynn took the fall for the whole deal. What a Moe. Is it pretty much understood that Moe is the dumbest stooge?

At the Thunder River Theatre Company (TRTC), “The Tempest” begins with a roar and a crash. While Prospero, played by Jeff Carlson, magically conjures up a storm, Prospero’s ocean-tossed enemies are disgorged from the bowels of the theatre itself, appearing through a trap door. As they writhe and struggle to hang onto their sinking ship, cries ring down from dark catwalks encompassing the ceiling. Thunder crashes from all sides, the darkened theatre rumbling and shaking the audience.

Right now, I’m pursuing two long-deferred callings: writing a personal column and becoming a fine-art painter. Those two activities feel like yin and yang, emotionally balancing the scales: painting is a right-brain activity, writing is left-brain. When I’m writing, my mind is full of words. I never miss a publication deadline. While I’m painting, mind chatter disappears. I lose track of time. I sometimes even miss meals.