My Fairy-Tale Life, by Steven Boone

I am on a path of leaving what is familiar. In February the open road will stretch out before me, beckoning to places beyond the horizon. I ...

Recently, when I have mentioned to friends my intention to sell my possessions and become a homeless planetary wanderer, several have sugges...

I am in Chicago, the place Carl Sandburg called “Stormy, husky, brawling . . . city of the big shoulders.” November 11 marked my daughter...

The morning light pushed through the window blinds next to my bed, gently prodding me to arise. But it was not as if I heard bugles blaring,...

A feeling is growing inside of me to shed what is familiar, and make a major leap into the unknown. It is an anticipation of growth that I l...

I am in Cincinnati for a funeral. Charles Tobias, my father-in-law for 22 years, died on Thursday. In various ways, he filled voids in my li...

As I pulled into my driveway today, a short segment on the radio about after-life experiences caught my attention so that I sat listening. M...

October always is a major month for the sale of artwork in Santa Fe. My opening at Adieb Khadoure Gallery last Friday attracted scads of peo...

Jean and I are moving toward finishing one part of our life together  marriage partners and beginning a new one as strictly friends. I am ...

The last time I saw Tanja Mennone was six months ago when I was in Bari, Italy. Now we are together again, in San Francisco. She is visiting...

On the road again. Yesterday I drove eight hours, from Santa Fe to Scottsdale, Arizona. My friend John welcomed me, even though he had arriv...