Ghosts love Christmas. They get to drop in and enjoy the fun parts, without the logistical worries. I don’t know that, perhaps ghosts have worries too. I have heard they have jobs to do, and we know they are not perfect or finished beings. They love the music and food. They spur us on… Continue reading Ghosts Love Christmas
Author: trishfreer
Mother, writer, artist and teacher grappling with grief and loss.
Sadness, and Pizza
illustration by Arthur Rackham “Sadness lets you wear stilettos, sadness lets you dance in the moonlight. She just has dark rims around her eyes.” – Tori Amos The universe communicates in faint whispers sometimes, right below the surface. Sometimes through a voice vibrating warm in the flesh of my ear, as I awake from a… Continue reading Sadness, and Pizza
The Cailleach
The Cailleach, the Celtic crone goddess of storms and winter, wears a hood in many visual interpretations. I imagine her surrounded, beneath her cloak, by cool and crisp vapor, more like that from an autumn evening than anything frightening. When I was isolating during the pandemic, I was trying to make drawings like I used… Continue reading The Cailleach
“I’m Here”: A Fictional Halloween Story
Essence was going to be an angel for Halloween. She had several costumes this year, some for parties that happened on other days preceding. Her mother had hesitated to buy more than one, worrying it might be excessive and that people would judge her as a mother. But she bought more, for her little girl,… Continue reading “I’m Here”: A Fictional Halloween Story
Dumb Supper
The veil is thin, October, and I am surrounded by mist. I can sometimes feel droplets, the atmosphere is cool and blurry. My awareness vacillates, I can be here or somewhere else. Susanna’s death, now years ago, pushed me toward an edge which became my home. Life/death, death/life, this blurry line is home. This is… Continue reading Dumb Supper
“Kiss the Sky for Me.”
Remote teaching has reminded me of what I know about communicating with the discarnate, and other beings in alternate dimensions (please interpret that the way that makes sense to you). You know others are there, yet you are not with them, and seek communication and validation. It’s not exactly the same but teaching art class from… Continue reading “Kiss the Sky for Me.”
Palisades, and Screaming
The Palisades were in front of me, “New Jersey’s Grand Canyon”. Formed 200 million years ago, they were named by native people for rows of trees, Europeans for fence posts. In the fall, the cliffs are blotted with iridescent blobs of foliage in photos. I feel like I have painted them a million times. I… Continue reading Palisades, and Screaming
Susanna’s Golden Mouse
At first, I was the only one who had seen the mouse. A flash of golden fawn, confusing. The first time was under the sink by the garbage can, followed by twice in my son’s room, on and around the old, crappy, black futon with built in storage. We have had many a mouse… Continue reading Susanna’s Golden Mouse
I Have Covid-19, Don’t Panic
I have COVID-19. I cannot prove it, I am not eligible for a test, but I am certain beyond a reasonable doubt. I am one of the approximately eighty percent recovering at home with no test. So grateful that this is so. This is the story. I felt it best to share this, as I… Continue reading I Have Covid-19, Don’t Panic
Two Weeks Past Imbolc
When meditating yesterday, during this coldish winter break, I received some late winter advice. “It is not time to gather a bunch of flowers yet, but still time to gather a bundle of firewood”. I have stretched this message into urban life, no fireplace here but I continue to ride out some winter. Winter has… Continue reading Two Weeks Past Imbolc
Susanna's Golden Ball 