Jennifer Amy Hynes

Thoughts on Motherhood Through the Eyes of an Artist

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What I did today- I went to the City of San Rafael to look at the property lines of the home owner’s association common areas. I did this because a few weeks ago I noticed the scotch broom was thick, between the oak trees and bay trees about 50 feet from my house.  I noticed […]

Corrosion of chalk, ink on paper, words on paper, chapters, parenthood. Everything gets corroded. You learn everything dies. You learn the air will be filled with smoke from wildfires for the rest of your life. I hear the birds chirping. I sit in my house with my living room door and windows open, not sure […]

I am so sad. My neighbors homes, a special place I go for solitude, a place i fantasize about disappearing in among the tall trees burns. When humans die we will leave burnt toxic land. We live on earth with no regard for what was here before, the animals, the plants, the air, the oceans. […]

Everything is perfectly still. I am alone in my house, my dog asleep, satisfied from her morning walk. Most of my windows and doors are shut, the house is not hot or cold. I have less than two hours before all that changes. I wish I had more time. I did my morning scan of […]

The air is fresh and crisp this morning, sky blue, hills tan. The freeway rumbles and crows caw. I see humming birds on the lavender, it’s nearly August. Last night I noticed how much earlier it seemed to get dark as I tucked Jack and Fiona into bed. Summer is starting to fade into the […]