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Category: family

A is for

Of course I love the alphabet–it’s the Lego Bricks that make up words, stories, books–the building blocks. Yes, I speak English, Spanish, Engineer, Athlete–plus a bit more American Sign Language than my petite peu du Francaise… Why? not how is the important part–because no one should be the outsider. Well, we are all outsiders in some way–if you have never felt that outsider feeling, I challenge you to step outside of your comfort zone, even if it’s by…

roots

roots–like a tree, not roots like our hair, or a vegetable–wait, maybe… let’s dig a little deeper. Yes, I write. I love numbers, patterns–many people do, they might not realize it. That’s ok–we don’t have to know why we like something to enjoy it–sometimes art is in the eye of the beholder. I use the word FUN, but truth be told, JOY is what I mean–taking the minor moments of life and finding the humor in the…

human emotion

Yes, fear. Human emotion. Strong like love. Okay, I love patterns, I fear labels.   So back to FEAR. Avoiding labels and loving verbs– I write, I teach, I sew, I problem solve, I engineer. Verbs good, labels–not so. I remain idealistic AND fiercely pragmatic.   Bravest person that I know, my home, my heart, my mom–toughest teacher in my high school–yes, indeed–tough but awesome. A superhero–no, cape–more like a heroine transported from days ago, in a land…

Zupa

Four-thirty a.m. and I’m making soup! Porcini and Chanterelle mushrooms simmering away in a bath of life-giving H2O, yes water–fresh from the tap–I can’t forget the stinking rose–GARLIC! Jar said “California Style” minced garlic sautéed in olive oil. Soup and Pie, these are my two favorites to cook. Thanks to Wisconsin Public TV, I’m learning about apples, beef, pumpkins. Supper sounds better than dinner–maybe I should change my jargon. https://wpt.org/around-the-farm-table/garlic-stinking-rose Garlic is known as the “stinking rose.”…

sisters in thread

As the season of lights and preparations is here–I recall your smiling eyes and you in that pastel flannel plaid–soft white and gentle blue. Audaciously on the year of the Rooster, we sat like women no, humans always have–over food–talking of those young persons we love, some in school, others back home, and of the men in our lives.  I never met her husband in person–but over that meal, I got to know him–I hope he feels her presence…

Tuning, Timing and Temerity

  Twenty Seventeen; Two Zero One Seven Minutes in Between I share Love isn’t measured in minutes or miles Yes, this year–we’ve buried family and friends, welcomed new ones, fallen down and gotten back up. I’m not sure how, but through grace we do.   2017, oh my–the phrase Earth without Art is just EH–has taken on a new meaning for me this year. Rest in Peace my friend from long ago. So these bookends, these letters the…

back to patterns and back to rules

Baysox lost in Altoona with the skeleton of a RollerCoaster looming in sky over right field. Game ended, season ended. back to patterns and back to rules Top of the 9th–day nine–month nine–29th years. This time, this year, this game. Giamatti’s cadence, my heart beats. Capturing this moment in time–I stop. As I recite GreenFields of the Mind, the crowd sounds fade, that’s ok–I recite for my future–not for an audience, not for fame, no–instead, for hope–to…

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copyright 2016 Amalia Morusiewicz | FUNfromAtoZ | 9900 Greenbelt Road | Suite 314 | Lanham, Maryland 20706

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