Battle of the Sexes

February 23, 2018 - Leave a Response

Billie Jean King beat Bobby Riggs fair and square, right?  Right!  Bobby Riggs boasted he could be any woman even she had two serves and the doubles boundary while he played with just one serve and within the singles line.  He was wrong.  He lost to Billie Jean King in straight sets,  6-4, 6-3, 6-3 in Houston on September 20, 1973.

On that day, I was a ten year-old quiet child.  I watched the whole match from a secret place in our California home while dozens of adults, mostly women, cheered on Billie Jean King.   I didn’t understand all the hoopla. Of course she was going to win.  I was a good tennis player and knew a 29 year-old woman would beat a 55 year-old man with those terms.  And I’m so glad she did!

Why did she agree to such a biased match-up?  He was an asshole who kept baiting her and she wanted to prove him wrong and shine a light on women’s tennis. Thankfully, she accomplished both goals with her victory.

50 million people tuned in to watch the match on television.  Over 30,000 watched the match live at the Astrodome.  Very few of us talk about the terms of the match.  Speaking for myself, I just don’t care that this substantial fact is left out of the historical narrative but maybe I should. This is how history is written and risky investments are pitched –  leave out certain important information that doesn’t line up with the desired narrative.  Sell it!

If you Google the debate about the terms of their match, you will not find unedited footage of the match. What you will find is this article by “Cecil Adams”.  Evidently, such an esteemed writer, who won’t even show his face, has an assistant who can access the unedited footage. Right.

Of course, my (and millions of others’) memory could be wrong.  One thing is true – we who saw the match, actually watched every moment, will be dead soon.  And this excellent movie (which deserves some Oscars) will live to tell the story and share all the really important stuff.


From: Hollywood Elite

January 9, 2018 - Leave a Response

Message received: Never make fun of others (except the president).  Don’t be cruel to any living thing (except the president).  Be a good sport (unless your candidate loses).

We love you and you almost dismantle everything you claim to stand for with each twinkle in your eye every time you make fun of the president and his family.  You enjoy it.  You encourage others to do the same.

I wonder if you could keep working to impeach or replace the president without making fun of him?  Could you?  What would be so bad about that?  Please try.  Thank you.  It would be a shame to lose all you have worked for with one irresistible target you keep hitting and hitting and hitting (smiling with every punch).



January 8, 2018 - Leave a Response

I write here for Peace, my true love.  It brings me the balance I crave during this short human time that sometimes feels unbearably long.  The human time, for me, is like an Artist’s Residency.  I observe, adjust and create.  Repeat.

I’m far from private.  A simple web search will tell you more about me than you’ll learn in a lifetime about many people.  I’m quiet.

Here, at, I am not Gg.  I am not Gingerbread Amy.  I am not a mother or a daughter or a friend or a writer.  I am not even Amy Knapp.  I am the spirit that resides in the body some of us call Amy Knapp.

I am reminded time and time again that I could benefit by more grace in certain situations.  Sometimes these situations seem so outrageous, grace seems out of the question for anyone, especially me.  Still, I will explore grace and more grace.

Years ago, I noticed I get as excited about my family as many people are about celebrities.  I watch people all amped up about meeting or seeing or bumping into someone famous.  That’s how I feel about the people I live with, sleep with, eat with, fight with, and celebrate with.  In thinking about this, I recently asked family members to sign their 8 x 10s for me and, luckily, now I have a beautiful growing collection for which I am very grateful.  They are my superstars.

Sure, some family members are too busy to sign a picture, or think I’m foolish and corny.  Someone even dismissed my efforts since “everyone is a fan of their family, Amy.”  Not true in my experience.

Now, I’m going to go say hello to God by looking at a tree for a long time. It’s nice to be loved wholly and eternally.  I’m grateful for this residency and the close companionship available at all times.  Such sweet peace.

The capacity to be alone is the capacity to love ~ Osho.


Brandon Jeffords!

December 30, 2017 - Leave a Response

When we met, I was struggling.  Most days, it felt like I could barely breathe.  He was a first-year art student at Ringling School of Art & Design.

Together, we created two books, Caps & Crowns and The Color of Noodles.  His dream was to work in film animation and create a loving family.  My dream was to live peacefully with my husband and daughters, a loving family, creating art. Our dreams came true.  I like to think we helped each other.

Thank you Brandon.  I will remember you forever and wish you years and years of love and work, as Jung said, “Work is love made visible.”


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Bleed Blue?

December 28, 2017 - Leave a Response

When people say they “bleed blue” to show how much they love the Dodgers what does that mean?  Is that really where their passion lies? With men they don’t know and will never meet?  Men who play a game for too much money?  Men who don’t know or care about them? Men who will never sit at their Thanksgiving table?  He bleeds blue.

He says it’s easy for me because I married money.  This tells me so much about him and says so little about me or men I married.  In 1988 I married a man I met when I was 18 years old.  I loved this man and we shared precious dreams of our future.  We shared two beautiful daughters. He died in 2008, ten years after our unfathomable divorce, from which I emerged unrecognizable to myself.  In 2014 I married a man I met when I was 47.  We share an amazing life full of love and laughter.  We care for too many children to count.

So now, still, he, this person I love, says I married money. I am sad for me and for him.

His mother is dying.  He says she did not support him.

If he believes his mother did not support him, let me take a minute to tell you how much she supported him his WHOLE life.  Every single fucking step of the way, she was there with food, shelter, intelligence, money, comfort, candy, handmade Halloween costumes, lots of Christmas joy, tons of resourcefulness, and utter devotion to his wellbeing. I was there.  I witnessed it.  To say she did not support him is like saying my mother never cared about my tennis game.

If he does not think she gave him enough money (or anything) over the years, then there truly is not enough money to be enough.  She could give him every dime, every remnant of her existence as a human, and it would not be enough for him.

So go ahead.  Bleed blue.



December 23, 2017 - Leave a Response

To all the American citizens using the hashtag #NotMyPresident – rest assured you will not be beheaded for your dishonesty.  You are free to be liars in this beautiful country.  Also, you are free to leave.  As with a strong and loving marriage, you are free to leave.  Become a citizen of another country, maybe one you love?  That might be better for you.

Live honestly.  Be truthful with your hashtag #NotMyPresident.  Why not?  Try it! Be true to your word.  It’s amazing.  None of us are true to our word all the time but it is just such a noble and rewarding pursuit, I can’t help but encourage you and remind myself.  This one isn’t hard.  Just leave.  Board a plane.  Fill out documents.  Renounce yourself of this country and your burdensome citizenship.  If this country, in which you are free to make fun of anyone anytime, is too difficult for you, leave. Please.  You deserve peace.

And then, use the hashtag #NotMyPresident with truth.  The truth will set you free.

Blessings to you on your journey.



Thanksgiving 2017

November 24, 2017 - Leave a Response

It’s 5:13 am, Thanksgiving 2017.  I am filled with gratitude and look forward to the crowd of voices coming my way in several hours.  There will be baby voices.  There will be voices that have been around for more than eight decades.  There will be  the presence of loved ones whose breath has become air.

This is the fourth year my husband and I have hosted.  We enjoy each year as there is always an important insight and life-affirming lesson waiting for us.  We struggle each year with all the details and suggest this one is our last.  We are clear about this – we are creating a family Thanksgiving, not a party.  Yet, the bigger the family, the more it feels like a party.  Still, I cringe when anyone calls it that and suspect some relatives do it just to make me cringe.  I could be wrong.

Philip Burke celebrates Thanksgiving with fellow Buddhists.  Can we join? I wonder.

Philip is a painter whose work is widely recognizable.  His twin brother is married to my cousin, which is how we are acquainted.  He gets an invitation to our Thanksgiving as we want my cousin’s husband to know we love his family, which is our family, because we are a universal family, although I’m not sure how everyone is the world will fit around our table.

I wrote a play once – Fine Arp! – in which a character briefly wished a painter dead so her painting would increase in value.  This play is not about Philip (although I did use him as the artist she wished dead) and the play is not about me (although we own a Philip Burke original).  I thought Philip might find the play funny.  He didn’t.  I needed an artist so I picked the one in closest range and it happened to be a him, a man I wish many happy fruitful years of life.

The stars are shining bright this morning outside my window and I think I see Suzanne’s sparkly smile, my Grandma’s almost-black brown eyes, Papa’s big ears, and Jody’s long brown braids of the 70’s.

It will be a perfect Thanksgiving.  It always is.

We enjoy a mature respectful and fun relationship with each other as we continue to discover healthy ways.


On Writing

November 17, 2017 - Leave a Response

Some people call me a writer.  I love it.  I don’t call myself a writer.  I say “I write.”

Why?  For one thing, I don’t make enough money at writing to support anyone (or do I?) and I don’t need another label, writer.  I barely take myself seriously as a human, much less a writer.  I’m very serious about being a whiff of light making a brief appearance as a human on planet earth.  What does that even mean?

I know.  I’ll try to explain.

This might sound crazy but I believe every human is born with everything she needs for a beautiful life. How can that be?  No food!  No water!  No education!  No money!  Right.  That baby’s got it all.  I can’t explain any better than that because the truth is…hold on…that baby doesn’t really need her human body.

When my daughters were born, I looked at them and thought…it’s all there.  Just like the whole apple tree and all the apples exist in the apple seed.  It’s all there.  And so, I got very busy tending the soil doing everything I could to make a good and rich place for those seeds to grow and flourish.  My daughters are now beautiful loving and creative adult women and that’s between them and God, as it was from the beginning.

Must I write?  Yes.  So call me a writer or don’t.  It’s all true.


The Fires Burn

October 15, 2017 - Leave a Response

What will you do for money?

What will you do for sex?

What are you willing to die for?

What will you do for an Oscar?  An Emmy? A Pulitzer?

What will you do for a beer?

What will you do to be widely read?

What will you do to protect your children?


The answers will become evident with time.  Burn burn burn.


5 Things Durango

October 1, 2017 - Leave a Response

My husband and I are currently excited about our new book, The 5-Things Travel Guide.  In case we don’t get around to writing it (a very real possibility) here is the concept:  for each location, we give you the top 5 things to do, according to us.

We found ourselves in Durango.  Here are the 5 things:

  1. Ride the train to Silverton (or wherever it is going)
  2. Get a picture with Whinney and Friends.
  3. Have pizza at Fired Up.
  4. Order the country breakfast with orange juice at Jean Pierre (the French French baker!)
  5. Drive the Million Dollar Highway

Where you go There you are

September 18, 2017 - Leave a Response

Know yourself.  Know everyone.

Don’t know yourself?  Can’t know anyone.

Looking for “real people” as a woman I know whimpered over a summer cocktail recently?  Look in the mirror.  Everyone in the world is waiting there to love you perfectly.



August 17, 2017 - Leave a Response

If I believed anyone needed me to be any different (even by a single cell, thought, or atom) in order to be well themselves, I might be inspired to change.  But I don’t.  No one needs me for their wellness.  And still, I change.  Second by second, day by day, year by year…I change.  And, I never change.  I always will and I never will.  Money in the bank.


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