Funny Duchess

Blog of artist and poet, Michelle Seaman


August 16, 2019

Bread Loaf Environmental Writers’ Conference 2019

Attending the Bread Loaf Environmental Writers’ Conference was an incredible honor. For one week this summer, I was in the Green Mountains of Vermont with poets. It was quiet and motivating. I could hear myself and others. I slowed down. I ate the freshest food, and my clothes smelled like campfire smoke. I remembered my – Read More –

April 18, 2019

Sonic Space

In February I was in Florida, on Lake Valrico’s pier with my brother, when he spotted the snout and head of an alligator floating in the distance. Her body rose as she began to swim toward shore, and Matthew guessed she was about eight feet long. I love alligators. They are modern dinosaurs with gorgeous, – Read More –

February 11, 2019

Hawk Colors of Winter

“Aunt Shella, I don’t like this weather. I can’t tell what time it is.” My nephew Blake said this to me on a rare, gray day in Florida. I understood. I am ruled by light and colors. A perfect day for me begins with a soft yellow morning, swirling pink, orange and blue coming up – Read More –

January 25, 2019

Beautiful Unfamiliar

She hurt her neck hoisting a friend through the bathroom window of a bar. His foot slipped her neck popped, now pain is a chronic level of noise that she can lower by stretching and not sitting in the same position for very long. Going has become her theme. A stack of polyester-lined suitcases are her – Read More –

January 2, 2019


A certain land is calling me. The shape of it rolls into the horizon, clear, nothing in the way. The wind blows tall grass and wild flowers. There is so much space. Past the open fields there are trees, clusters of oaks, maples, hickories, pines. It’s quiet, and it smells like fresh dirt. My birth – Read More –

October 25, 2018


Benjamin and I were taking the backroads from Delaware to New York when I saw a pheasant on the side of the road. He was standing tall and his bright colors jolted me. Prior to this glimpse of a lovely creature, I was in the throes of a panic attack. I used to love driving, – Read More –

August 6, 2018


“Benjamin, there’s something moving under that plastic bag!” We were standing on the water’s edge of Tarrytown Lake. Wedged between the rocks was a crumpled, black plastic bag and something was poking its head against it, over and over. Before Benjamin could take a look, I concluded that it was a turtle in need of – Read More –

July 8, 2018

Thoughtless Walking, Playful Dancing

I am wandering trails again, long distances around lakes, beside marshes, under oaks and pines. I am meandering streets in New York City, discovering coffee shops and used book stores. There are no sharp jolts of pain or dull pulsing aches. I do not need a cane. I am free. To return to movement is – Read More –

May 21, 2018

Lilac Thank You Notes

It’s been 5 months since I had my hip replaced, and the gratitude I have felt calls for a long, thank you list… Thank you most, Benjamin, for never leaving my side. From the beginning, back in November, when I made the decision to have surgery, through the scary moments when I looked ‘too small’ – Read More –

April 10, 2018


I was biking on the trail that curves around Tarrytown Lakes when I saw a little girl in the distance. She was on a pink bike with training wheels, tassels wispy in the breeze. Her mom stood next to her, steadying the bike, encouraging her to go. As I passed, the little girl looked up – Read More –

Older Posts