These last few months I have receded from the world to my backyard deck spending hours each day meditating, journaling and then working the outline of my memoir. I have been here so much, I am now embedded and a part of my garden's ecosystem. My niche in this system...

Here in Southern California we are a bit like the red-haired stepchild when it comes to the changing of the seasons. Scrappy north-easterners sneer at our lack of seasons (while secretly envying them), while hearty mid-westerners laugh at our mentioning that, "Fall is here, or Spring has sprung," just because...

Last Wednesday PBS aired the Mark Twain Prize in which my father, George Carlin, was posthumously honored for his life long work in Comedy (if you didn't see it, it will be re-run in many markets the weekend of Feb. 13th).

The weekend we taped the show (November...

Strange thing, I have actually been feeling normal the last few days. After almost seven months of grief about my father's death filling most every nook and cranny in my psyche, this week there is no hole in my heart, no foggy confusion, no just staring at the refrigerator thinking...

So, I have been avoiding writing this post for the last week because no matter what I write here, I always seem to bring up my father's death, and well, I fear that you are thinking, "God she is so fucking depressing with all this death shit." And if...

As I sat Christmas morning meditating as the dawn broke here in the middle of the vast Pacific Ocean over Hawaii, I was struck by the many faces of the Ultimate Unknown/Known Otherness (traditionally named God) that were presented to me.

There was the dawn itself, the light emerging, and...

Last night while driving down Sunset Blvd. in the dark and in the rain, I heard this line come out of my radio -- "When there's nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire." My breath sucked back into my heart, and my soul felt as...

So, it seems the NY intellectual cognoscenti (I've always wanted to use that word, but have been afraid to for fear that I would mispronounce it, so I'm thrilled that I am not reading this aloud right now), anyway, some NY folkhttp://www.nytimes.com/2008/11/23/fashion/23irony.html?scp=7&sq=andy%20newman&st=cse"> in a piece in the NY Times,...

May 11, 1997

It is Mother's Day. I am exhausted, spent -- emotionally drained. Mom has sunk into some kind of childlike state that I can't identify. She acts and speaks like she is a three-year-old child. Does anyone come back from a state like this? This panics me, but...