"A whale is found dead with more than 30 plastic bags in its stomach" reads the headline. I almost throw up. I steel myself, knowing exactly how I'll feel if I read the article. I read it anyway, because I prefer truth over denial.

I feel exactly how I knew I would. Numb. Angry. Overwhelmed. Helpless. Guilty. But also determined. I know I'm not the only one trying to stop the insane inflow of plastic into every crevice of our lives, lifestyles, and now the entire foodchain of the planet.

Ah, the day after.  That blissful feeling of joy, of complete and utter contentment, where nothing else matters because everything has gone so well and so right. There are always the pre- and post-event duties, the planning, the organization, the last-minute tweaks and late-night trips to art supply stores, but it's all worth it.

I'm talking, of course, about great parties and get-togethers.  Author talks.  Opening receptions.

I read about sleep the other day. An article about how much more profoundly sleep impacts our health and well-being than most of us probably realize. I want to share it with you because it's something I struggle with on a daily basis, and imagine many of us do as well.

Have you ever been to an ivory tower? I've been to a few. Some are so tall and disconnected from reality it's frightening. Others are shorter, closer to the ground, freshly painted with well-tended gardens. And some simply don't know you exist.