Helena Writes

Someone’s singing in the basement. Annie hears it through the floor and feels it in her feet when she puts them on the floor to pull on her slippers...

...the progression of Lillian’s dementia is there, just outside, and I have to encounter this slow, arduous and mysterious passage. Lillian was a painter, as I am.

In her 57th post, Helena grapples first with this column’s deadline, then with a transformative experience of both grief and love.

In her 56th post, Helena shares an exercise on building characters, along with memories of her beloved sister.

In her 52nd post, Helena shares another chapter from her favorite of her original works, Ruthie Pincus of Brooklyn.

In her 51st post, Helena reflects on the loss of her son's father and the first holiday without him. 

In her 50th post, Helena Clare Pittman shares another chapter from her favorite of her original works, Ruthie Pincus of Brooklyn.

In her 49th post, Helena returns with another chapter from her middle-grade novel, about piano lessons and the value of practice and art.

In her 47th post, Helena offers a short piece of writing by her adult son, an example of stream of consciousness-style writing, plus a call to try it yourself.

Helena offers some poetic “impressions” from her daily journaling practice, plus a requested and imagined end to the two-part monkey story from March and May.