My Fairy-Tale Life, by Steven Boone

  Another Sunday, another reckoning with whatever imaginative wind has blown this week. Creative currents have swept me into unfamiliar terr...

Recently, a circling back occurred. Like a migrating bird—sometimes flying thousands of miles to return to a place of beginning—I found myse...

For the time being, I have stopped painting. For more than forty years, painting has defined my existence. It has been my daily discipline, ...

One dark night not long ago, we scooped a tan, medium sized dog up off the streets and made her part of our family. She arrived with an open...

  Brisa, breeze in Spanish, has swept into our lives with charm, and grace—as if she always belonged. I wish I could talk with her and hear...

Amy and I live a quiet, creative life on the outskirts of one of the world’s most vibrant cities—Oaxaca, Mexico. Our village sits far enough...

After the mysterious disappearance of our beloved Avión, the house felt hollow—as if a light had gone out and left a quiet, aching space beh...

Last Monday, we woke to a shock that still hasn’t settled in our hearts— we found Avión mysteriously dead. T his, the morning after joyfully...

 Our Xoloitzcuintle dog, MaliNalli Copali, is about four and a half years old now. Each day she brings us joy—along with her soul-brother, ...

The days approached steadily, as they do each year—filled with anticipation, hope, and a tinge of sadness. After all, Día de Muertos is a ti...

Once again, the work has taken a turn—into a new series of colorful expressionist pieces. Throughout more than forty years of creating, I ha...