I am an intentional educator, biologist, author, photographer and traveller in search of truth, creativity, and conversations that matter. I seek simplicity, strive to be mindful, and listen for the song of the river and tree. I am a writer by need, not choice, from a conscientious and curious calling to put wonder into words. I write fiction, nonfiction, and poetry, and am currently revising my first novel.
I am giving quite a few presentations and workshops over the next few months, on topics such as experiential and embodied education, outdoor learning, poetic inquiry, contemplative education, and integrating ecology and creativity.
Photography is a practice in what Joanna Macy calls seeing with new eyes. From light and lens we capture a still image, almost lifeless at first glance, yet between color and pattern the keen viewer discerns windows of insight. What is not seen often speaks just as loudly as that which falls within the frame.
I follow themes of natural phenomena and our disconnection from the earthly reality. My intention is to reveal the emergent intelligence of Gaia, and elicit that most important of feelings on the path to wisdom: wonder.
The cell is the building block of life. Through the microscope we can bear witness to the world of the ubiquitous protist, the photosynthetic miracle of the chloroplast, and watch the pulse of the blackworm.
I have always had a very intimate relationship with art. Danced with music, flirted with films, and bedded with books. In the many thousands of aesthetic acquaintances I have made, occasionally a great love comes along, an Art that stimulates and embraces me on multiple fronts.
“You’re young enough to be my grandson,” Phyllis confides to me in the bumpy van ride through verdant waves of palm, ceiba and tiger bush. Our driver plows through muddied water of the washed out dirt road. Phyllis frowns. “I don’t like caves, and I’m not a good swimmer.”
Did the Actun Tunichil Muknal cave poster, complete with whip scorpions, skeletons of the sacrificed, and photos of tourists swimming into a murky mausoleum not deter her? Nevertheless, I promise to stay close. In my ignorance excitement boils over, blind to the path ahead that will harm both body and spirit.
In the potholed parking lot, rain pelts us as we don our plastic hardhats. I am the lone Canadian in a group of older Americans. A two-minute trail takes us to Roaring River. Swift riffles heaving from the cloudburst betray a deadly undercurrent. There is no bridge. … →
Last month I attended David Abram’s wonderful “Between the Body and the Breathing Earth” workshop at Hollyhock. I took my camera out one afternoon during my visit to Cortes Island, and this was the result. Some of these photos were … Continue reading →
our Sri Lankan driver peers ahead
through a windshield wet with rainforest
each dip and potholed turn
throws my stomach to the butterflies
I scan the sleepy morning mist
a veil for verdant wisdom
my heart opens
to a wild, untamed touch
on foot, the terra cotta trail caresses
lined by leeches waving suckers
seeking the offspring of my marrow
our guide pulls from a magic pouch
salt to mask palpitating flesh … →
Students dress up as a Golgi apparatus for their biology presentation.
In the cell biology lab, I decided to scrap the pre-lab quiz one week and have students do brief presentations. Each partnership chose one electron micrograph to present. I gave some basic guidelines and encouraged them to be creative.
That day, our class awaited the arrival of two students. Their tardiness was quickly forgotten as they came through the door, dressed in full lab coats and covered in twisting balloons (the ones used to make balloon animals). Collectively, they embodied a living, walking Golgi apparatus.
Meanwhile in the genetics lab, students were presenting meiosis. … →