This morning I told my mother to fuk off. I did not mean it, not exactly. Living here, where I don’t want to be, being…
Leave a CommentTag: THE VAST LANDSCAPE
My mama always said, a hand-written note is the politest, most personal form of communication. I tend to agree. By post, the modern-day luxury. …
2 Commentstoday is a three-part kind of day I know. I used to see Phillip Seymour Hoffman in the Village, head-down, unassuming posture. The year was…
Leave a CommentThey ask too much, expect more from me. To sit in a room with gut wrenching, broken, beaten down souls. There is too much pain, upon…
One CommentI’m uncomfortable with pr, marketing all things that come with ‘self-promotion’. It makes me squeamish on a cellular level. I do it anyway, in spite of…
One CommentI never paid much attention to a normal, calendar year. When you have a serious illness, days are measured in hours, minutes and even…
One Comment“I am allowed one piece of pretty to call my own,” says Harrison. …
Leave a CommentA year in the making, decades of prose, essays, blogging, writing, re-writing and working the craft. My debut fiction novel (a love story, go figure)…
Leave a CommentWelcome to my Writer’s page. Author sounds a bit pretentious. Many of you have supported, commented and visited my beauty blog over the years, Makeup…
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