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Hello, dear one.

Welcome to my online writing home.

Please make yourself comfortable, get a cup of something nourishing, and stay awhile.

Words are keys to doors we might even not know are there, tucked inside. If such doors open for you, bring them flowers and sing them a sweet song, maybe dance a little, and see where they lead you.

With love,

Francine.

Francine Bonjour-Carter

The First Letter

Photo Credit: Karen - Permilion44. You can listen to this story here: My hometown is older than anything you know. Before being the...

Francine Bonjour-Carter

Handwriting is Art

"In many ways, handwriting serves as an extension of an artist's process," says Mary Savig, the curator of manuscripts at the...

Francine Bonjour-Carter

The Handless Maiden & The Indigo Gown

(Breast Health Experience From a Mythopoetic Perspective) I was here already, last week. Parking B, elevator, 6th floor, waiting room,...

Francine Bonjour-Carter

Handwriting and Personality

I recently received a letter from a friend that started with this phrase: "My handwriting is hard to read. I'm sorry for that but not...

Francine Bonjour-Carter

When I Left

Original art by Christian Schloe I wanted to take my children when I left, but they had already flown away, free on the sweet winds of...

Francine Bonjour-Carter

On The Day I Die

Let there be snakes,magnificent and smooth, slithering all around in their silent dance, coming from the direction where all things...

Francine Bonjour-Carter

:: The Horse ::

Watercolor paintings by my daughter Elia. A long time ago, when I was still in France, I used to go to the Classical and Cultural Music...

Francine Bonjour-Carter

Medicine

The medicine can only go where the wound is. When my daughters get stung, I chew plantain leaves with a sprig of yarrow and apply the...

Francine Bonjour-Carter

Wisdom

You do not have to understand. You do not have to see it is wisdom that is handed to you when

Francine Bonjour-Carter

The Lovers - The Journey Inward

Oh yes, says my friend, I see it. His long white hair tied into a bun, he smells of spices and marijuana and his old eyes are like two fox

Francine Bonjour-Carter

Writer’s Quest - First Morning.

I am away in a small apartment in Amish country, in a quiet environment and mostly unplugged. I am writing you from the tiny sunroom...

Francine Bonjour-Carter

Skin

There is no initiation without dream. That is what was left of my night when I woke up. It was still dark outside when I opened my eyes

Francine Bonjour-Carter

Eight Of Cups - Ancestral Gathering

Some days are gray - a misty colorless quality about them, a light cold breeze, a shiver in the body. Something whispers in the background.

Francine Bonjour-Carter

I am Home

I bring you my magic, do what you must with it. Turn it sideways and upside down, and be sure to spend time with its dark side. Take it...

Francine Bonjour-Carter

To Be The Woman Of This House

A few years ago, I came to deeply dislike the term housewife, on a gut level, and it came to represent everything that I did not want to be:

Francine Bonjour-Carter

Father Of Pentacles - To be reborn

It is the way he looks at me: a mix of precautious distance, invitation, and assessment. These three concepts swirl in me,

Francine Bonjour-Carter

To Live Like Blood

Last night I sat with nine other women for our Tuesday writing class, after a three-week long break. We talked about depth and getting to

Francine Bonjour-Carter

Ace Of Pentacles - The Stone Beings

There are things that can only be known in the forest. You have to initiate the walk, let your body take you there and pause at the edge,

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