Welcome 2015!

There is no time like the end of one year and the beginning of another to experience the reality of past, present, and future all becoming one.

We look back, reflect, count both our blessings and our sorrows.

We live in the moment, watching a ball drop in a cold and windy city where millions of people stand, even as we do also, jumping up, hugging and kissing one another, sipping champagne, welcoming the New Year.

We look ahead, daring to hope that maybe we can make the changes we see in our hearts a reality in the future. Those dreams, which before seemed only elusive, like a carrot dangled at a considerable distance in front of our noses, appear closer.

We can smell the carrot. We believe we can grab it… even for a few minutes.

That carrot, for me, has always been about following my heart.

So when my intuition leads me forward, I listen.

This blog has meant so many things to me. It has enabled me to get through a difficult period of transition in my life- weather a divorce, get a job, and most importantly… find my voice.

And although it may seem odd that once finding it, I am now choosing not to use it here, I suspect there are greater purposes for letting this go as I walk ahead in my creative journey, letting one open passage lead to another.

Thank you to my faithful followers. Without your support and encouragement I would not have made it through to this new and delightful place.

What I have shared here, and on my first blog, remains a testimony to my personal story, one that will continue to be an open passage for readers who happen here, either by chance or choice.

I have spoken in recent months about wings- the ones I now see I have, the ones I now intend to spread.

These wings, recently found in between some blankets in a bin in my basement, are my sign.

There are seasons when we tell stories and dream and write about living.

Then comes the season of doing just that- living with abandon the love we have discovered within ourselves.

That is the open passage I see ahead, a beautifully broad place with an incredible view.

Come with me. Believe. Savor the taste of the carrot.

Pull that rabbit out of a hat.


Happy, Happy New Year!
With love, Always,

Danese XOXO







I discovered this painting in the small chapel of my church back in June.

Last Sunday I invited my son-in-law, Brad, in to see it with me. He and Dale, my son, are making an unexpected move from where they thought they would be for the next couple years -New York City- to Sewanee, Tennesee in January.

And I, having dreams of moving, know that 2015 holds more substantial change, most likely a physical move from the dwelling I have called home for 13 years.

Both of us stood looking at the picture.

Brad mentioned Mary, bending over her newborn son.

I mentioned the star- pointing to it, emphasizing the long tail, the position of it over the baby.

In our common places of uncertainty, we both continued to look at the stable.

A shelter for animals.

The birthplace for God’s son.

And a word that also means “firmly established.”


You knelt
beside me.

I felt your

I am just
a babe.

And you,
are my

Only One Way

I went into the kitchen at work to make some tea. A warm cup of spiced chai tea sounded good on a chilly November morning. To get to the kitchen I passed the basement steps.

Those steps leading down to the basement are wooden and narrow. As I glanced down I saw the sign, one I’d passed by many times and never noticed.

Funny how that happens.

It reminded me of a comment from a close friend a year ago.

“You only have one way to go- up!”

She was right. And since then I have learned I have wings, fledgling ones, that have grown stronger each time I try them out. Leaving the nest of my past was (is) hard and scary. I confess to being a tad bit afraid of heights.

But flight is not overrated.

Flight is amazing.

Dare to discover, right there in the darkness, that you have wings. When you are ready, use them to fly only one way-





What could be better than a bear and a balloon?

I knew my red balloon photos would not be complete without this bear being part. Adrian represents so many good things in my life.

When I carry him under my arm to have our photo adventures, I feel childlike, expectant, ready to see any and all the possibilities of life surrounding us.

What has been lost can be found. Reclaimed.

Adrian is proof. And so is the red balloon.






I ran my fingers, fanned out, down the length of the fence, past the open gate, getting up close. I stopped. I took my index finger and placed it at the pinnacle of the sharp point. I held it there, as I slowed my breathing. It didn’t hurt. I was okay. 


I continued walking, head held high, anticipating something I knew awaited me just around the corner. I’d been here before, many times, but I was afraid to enter. Not anymore. I began to skip, quickly, ready to see, ready to lay hold of the treasure.


I could see him just on the other side, through the shiny black bars, and I gasped with delight. He’d been waiting for me, patiently. To come, To enter, To simply be myself. This was my moment. And it was also his. Just a kiss, only a kiss, was necessary to bring him back to life.


 I didn’t hesitate. My fingers touched lightly the ornately carved handle. I applied pressure, down and then back, pushing the gate wide open. His hand was on his heart, and so was mine, but soon, our hands, like our hearts already, would be locked, together, forever.


Longing, when it is allowed, can become something more.