Sign in

Stories from the heart. Tempered by the mind. By an award-winning writer. With a background in talk radio, newspapers & TV news. Novel in progress.

Wisdom on the art of loving from Maya Angelou, Anton Chekhov, and an island love affair with lasting lessons.

The silhouette of a woman looking out to sea in late evening.
Photo by Brannon Naito on Unsplash

When Maggie loved me, she stood alone at the end of a pier looking out across the black water. It was warm that first night on the big island at the far end of the archipelago.

The moon was a thin slice of cantaloupe low in the sky. It did not cast enough light to see very far. But there were twin rows of footlights along the pier. The harbor lights rising on the hill behind her gave shape and movement to the gently lapping waves beneath the pier.

She wore a gossamer skirt of many colors and a solid…

Life | Pandemic | Travel

How a Dying Woman Became a Lasting Reminder of the Importance of Human Connection

Photo by Jackson Eaves on Unsplash

It is one of those nights when the commute between Seattle and my so-called home in the San Juan Islands feels more like punishment than reward. Long day, long drive, long boat ride. I’m working harder than I want at a job I dislike to maintain a bourgeois veneer I don’t even believe in. It is already dark when I reach the ferry landing feeling not so much dead inside as…neutral, on hold.

To get here this evening, I drove north on Interstate 5 from the University of Washington, left the freeway in Mount Vernon, and headed west on Highway…

This is a very powerful article. Reading about your experience reminded me of how wrong it is that there is still a double standard when it comes to men and women.

I felt a great deal of compassion while reading about your younger self. But I was also maddened that Patrick repaid your genuine affection by treating you so badly. I hope a lot of people read this essay. Women, yes, so they can learn from what you've shared. But also men, so they can see just how shallow and small this kind of behavior makes them.

Poetic justice would be for Patrick to fall madly in love with you after finding you on Instagram all these years later--only to be spurned by your stronger, wiser, more condident self. Thanks for writing this.

Misogyny that leads to violence against women is a hate crime. Terrorism, yes. But also a hate crime.

In Atlanta where Robert Aaron Long murdered eight women, prosecutors intend to charge him with just that--a hate crime. A guilty verdict will lead to the death penalty, but he's only one incel. His trial won't prevent similar attacks in the future.

There's hope in the new measures against domestic terrorism announced by Attorney General Merrick Garland. Maybe he should go a step further and require mandatory reading of your excellent article. Thanks for writing it.

What a beautiful piece. At first, I thought you intended to speak only about the death of the ego, a principle I'm familiar with. But your article went much further than that and embraced a broader and more helpful way of thinking of "die before you die." It was refreshing to be reminded of all you have written here. Thank you for writing it. Namaste.


Most people don’t say the N-word anymore, but the lingering idea behind it endangers us all.

Image by 12222786 from Pixabay

With all eyes on the trial of Derek Chauvin, you’d think police everywhere would be on high alert regarding their behavior. That they’d want to distance themselves from incidents that tarnish the reputation of all police.

But during the height of the Chauvin trial, the news was filled with two incidents of “driving while Black” that made cops look bad all over again.

The worst of these ended with the death of Daunte Wright, a 20-year-old Black man killed by accident on April 11 for allegedly avoiding arrest. …

Why punish Ghislaine Maxwell when we should be thinking about targeted teens and the wealthy johns who prey on them?

Lolita Laserdisc Cover. Cropped photo from the author’s personal video collection

Readers please note: this story discusses the history of sexualization of minors, and the social and legal implications of pedophilia.

Once upon a time in a land across the sea, there was a boy who fell in love with a girl, who also fell in love with him.

During their brief romance, they fumbled into intimacy the way young people often do. But before their love could blossom fully, the girl died. And the boy suffered greatly. Although he would eventually grow into a learned man, he never forgot her. …

In the end, fear of death is a matter of identification. Identify with the ego, and you're afraid of death. Identify with the Self or Soul, and fear's not an issue. You know you're just going home.

It's wonderful to read this piece while making my way through Ursula K. Le Guin's Hainish novels. In those stories, the staggering distance between galaxies is covered in a few hours through light-speed traveling ships. But those hours translate to years for characters standing still on a single planet, while the ship's crew remains young.

As usual, you raise many issues worth pondering well after the reading. Thanks for writing this.

This wonderful story went to a place I didn't see coming. And the destination was even better than the getting there, which was terrific in its own right. Such good information here. Dr. Besser? I had to Google him, but yeah, the dude looks good even with gray hair. A real Cary Grant.

Some years back, I came across research that studied how babies respond to beauty. Can't quote chapter and verse right now. But the takeaway was that there is definitely an unconscious, involuntary, and perhaps pre-wired attraction to beauty.

How this differs from one culture to another and is understood by infants is as mysterious to me as how we internalize from infancy the inherited code for language. But it's fascinating stuff. As is this story. Which I agree with wholeheartedly. Thanks for writing it.

In order to love a place, you must love someone who lives there.

Jackson Park, New Orleans French Quarter. Image by Synapse from Pixabay

When I worked in TV news, New Orleans was never on my assignment list. My jobs were in San Francisco and Atlanta, the cities where I lived and worked.

But lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about the storied city where my mother was born. Call it chance, the Universe, or synchronicity — the Crescent City has been coming up for me in unexpected ways.

It’s not as though I ever really liked the place. …

Andrew Jazprose Hill

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store