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At various times in my life, a nagging voice has appeared, sometimes in the back of my head, sometimes in the front, asking, “Do I matter in...
Monthly archives:June 2015
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A narrow footbridge crosses the marsh to a tiny island covered with sassafras trees, a few feet back from the beach at the edge of Cape Pogu...
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I have been expressing myself through a visual language ever since I could hold a crayon. Most of my life I would draw in pencil as realisti...
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1 - I saw the image in my mind’s eye of the pile of stones, and it clearly needed something on the top, so I tried adding the bear, ...
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For seven or eight months during my 14th year, I kept a diary. This was in the late 1930s, when I was living in southern Virginia with my fa...
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Portrait of Peggy Freydberg by Eli Dagostino.
Chorus of Cells
Every morning,
even being very old,
(or perhaps because of it),
I...
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With Dad: Gene's birthday, August 5, 2006 (Dirado's mother Rose and sister Gina serving cake.)
I first met Stephen DiRado in 2012, after I ...
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A few years ago, near midnight, I was awakened by a phone call from a Hollywood director. “I got great coverage on your book,” he told me, ...
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This story was originally posted on The Art of Saving a Life website. Vaccines are one of the greatest advances in human history. They have...
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