Welcome to this website and to my studio on the top floor of a building in the heart of the city.  This studio is my forest hut, my sanctuary, my room of my own.  Every day I walk the ten blocks from our apartment, enter the building, pull the key out of my backpack and unlock the door, amazed to find my room still here, silent and waiting, with shelves of books and space to breathe.

Standing on earthen tiles in the little kitchen I fill the blue teapot with water.  My cup of steaming chai resting on the table by the window, I watch birds and clouds, silent signs of life in a busy world.  This is where I find space to slow down and listen to myself.  I sit on my cushion and meditate for as long or as short as I like.  This is where I read and paint and this is where I think and write, where I wrote my most recent book, The Beauty of What Remains:  Family Lost, Family Found.  And this is where I’ve begun researching the history of my great-great grandfather, Paul Selby, editor and Lincoln’s neighbor.