30 11, 2018

When the Market Opens

By |2018-11-30T09:16:55-08:00November 30th, 2018|Categories: Uncategorized|Tags: , , , |0 Comments

Out of the corner of my eye I see them. By rote, my feet steer to the table housing the red, brown, green and gold painted balsa wood configurations. I walk directly up to the festive card table in the middle of the green house filled with Poinsettias. I know people are milling. I see no [...]

7 10, 2018

The Weekend of October 6th

By |2018-10-07T21:00:14-07:00October 7th, 2018|Categories: Uncategorized|Tags: , , , |0 Comments

Life is trying. Trying to be first, trying to push opinions, answers and consequences. And today it feels like life is Himalayan in its unruly messiness. The scorching upcoming confirmation of Kavanaugh to a seat on the United States highest court of justice. The ashes of women betrayed in every conversation and community space. There is [...]

30 09, 2018

Scissors are falling out of my hair

By |2018-09-30T21:48:58-07:00September 30th, 2018|Categories: Uncategorized|Tags: , , , |0 Comments

There is a smell of moss and lumberjack permeating the studio. I dribble in late, sinking quickly into the black leather stylist chair. "I've never seen your hair down" I comment. An ocean of aqua marine locks drape over Siddal's right shoulder. They reach her waist. Suddenly I'm sitting on the porcelain bathtub of my grandmother's [...]

22 06, 2018

How to Leave 5th Grade

By |2018-06-22T09:51:10-07:00June 22nd, 2018|Categories: Uncategorized|Tags: , , , |0 Comments

Leaving 5th grade is about him. A son. In a new summer. Promoting a new era. Beginning the birth of a Gen Z-er. Leaving for him is freedom.  Walking home alone.  Gathering in friend clusters around the frisbee toss. Around the Magic draft. Around the smartphone. Around the texts. Around the lucky ones allowed Fortnite. Leaving for him [...]

9 05, 2018

Richochet

By |2019-01-12T08:37:55-08:00May 9th, 2018|Categories: Uncategorized|Tags: , , |0 Comments

The morning wind in the California high desert sends little slices of ice through your pores. A ruby red taffeta mini skirt dips and dives on the oak hanger. “Hi sweetie-the wind blows everything around here” a voice spills out from behind the red fabric of the storefront. A green faux fur hat perches atop her [...]

26 03, 2018

The Hush

By |2018-03-26T23:21:54-07:00March 26th, 2018|Categories: Uncategorized|Tags: , , , , |0 Comments

Stepping down into the hallway there is a runway of excitement. There are spring flowers enrobed in butcher paper casually strewn on park benches. The large cardboard signs read ‘L’amour est dans l’air’ and ‘La vie est une fleur dont l’amour est le miel’ while men in tuxes and women in a range of Seattle formal [...]

10 11, 2017

Blue Tarp

By |2017-11-10T12:49:04-08:00November 10th, 2017|Categories: Uncategorized|Tags: , , |0 Comments

Blue is the color of the tarp I would live under with the three children. I imagine it to be a hybrid of cobalt and robin’s egg –pantone 641C -fringed with encased dirt from the muddy camp of last week. I step into the makeshift alley under the bridge paralleling the main highway. The tarp trembles [...]

1 11, 2017

Mitochondria, Matriarchs and Shoes

By |2017-11-01T10:34:47-07:00November 1st, 2017|Categories: Uncategorized|Tags: , |0 Comments

I come from two generations of eastern European matriarchs. I am the third in a line of drivingly independent women who dig their elbows into the post refugee camp production of building a life. It is survival of the fittest, with mitochondria level engagement. And for this you need an intelligent selection of shoes. Sturdy shoes [...]

27 10, 2017

Base code Banter

By |2017-11-03T09:12:49-07:00October 27th, 2017|Categories: Uncategorized|Tags: , , |0 Comments

We are human beings. We function from a place of fear or attachment. Fear--- “Next week, my husband is going back to work and I will be alone for the first time with the baby. I’m scared” says the Assistant Director of a premier onsite childcare center for a world-renowned cancer research institute. She is intelligent, [...]

11 07, 2017

The Raging of Roots

By |2017-07-11T21:46:38-07:00July 11th, 2017|Categories: Uncategorized|Tags: , , , |0 Comments

I skip across the bleached grass to Anita’s farm looking for him. The rotted wooden gate sinks into my seven year old left hand as my right fingers wrestle with the shorn fibers of the rope holding the door closed. I clumsily try for three minutes finally opening the door. Darn fingers. My grandmother is superstitious [...]

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