A Place to Call Home

As important as it is to travel, it is just as important to have a home to come back to. We all yearn for those connections and we yearn for that sense of belonging. For that basic foundational concept of humanity that says I am from here. This is home. And so, when I'm gone …

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Misery Loves Company…as do the rest of us

I took a brief hiatus from my blogging this week. 2017 has come in with a crashing of symbols and disharmony and, quite frankly, I'm ready to start over fresh. Over the weekend, I got a text from my dad. My brother was in the hospital. And he's fine now and aside from Donald Trump, …

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“Sure, I’m in…” Ghost Hunting, and Famous Last Words.

We're on the last stop of the tour—Sorrel Weed House, which at first I thought, as a native Californian, was going to be a lot more exciting than it was. But the only high you get here is a spiritual one, and the only out of body experience you encounter is the disembodied souls that …

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Stay Wild, my Witchy Little Moon Child

"I myself have seen this woman draw the stars from the sky; she diverts the course of a fast-flowing river with her incantations; her voice makes the earth gape, it lures the spirits from the tombs, sends the bones tumbling from the dying pyre.  At her behest, the sad clouds scatter; at her behest, snow …

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Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked

The party was in full swing. Indentured servants did their best to placate the unruly guests, refilling the carafes of thick, mulled wine, pouring the bourbon that glistened in the crystal glasses like casts of amber in the sunlight. The French Doors were open to the patio, letting in the warm Savannah air that clung …

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Go Ask Alice

Poor Alice Riley. If you want to know what happened to her, you just have to ask. She still roams the courtyard of Wright Square on foggy nights, searching for her baby beneath the oaks strung in Spanish Moss, the same oaks from which they hung the noose that cradled her body. Her owner, William …

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