Today, I am Jewish. I am the darkest black, shining like ebony. I am an immigrant from Slovenia. I am every woman. I am Mexican-American. I am a Rohingya refugee, pursued by Burmese Buddhists I am a Honduran mother with three children, fleeing political violence and my husband’s family. I am Nancy Pelosi. I am … [read more]
Hearts In the Ice
I know many of you have seen this elsewhere and I apologize for the repetition. It’s the nature of PR to repeat. It’s the nature of PR to repeat. ;>) Sandy has been deep into an amazing project, building a new website for our friends, Sunniva Sorby and Hilde Fålun Strøm, who founded and lead … [read more]
Merely Steps Away
I have a new routine most Sunday mornings. I awake in the dark, spend an hour as still as a church mouse, then head off to a coffee shop closer than my usual place, but one I’ve come to fancy lately. Their coffee is better, to be sure. The place has a decidedly Euro … [read more]
Bomb Dream
Perhaps it’s the full moon. Or the leaves turning from green to gold to brown, falling at my feet. Or Soten returning home to die or reading about Natalie nearly dying. My dreams have darkened and become most vivid and visceral. But I dreamed this: They seem to bomb us in the very early hours … [read more]
The Point of the Matter
He just doesn’t get it, and then he wants me to fix it. He thinks this shit just happens to him. HE causes it! I’m sick of it. I’m outta here. Who do you mean? My Dad, man. He does the same thing over and over again, repeats the same dumbass mistakes, gets himself into … [read more]
My Friends, Grief and Anger
The horror grows, with news breaking of jails for ten-year-olds and babies, “tender age” jails. “They are nice” they say. Jailers admit many children will likely never be reunited with their families. They just haven’t the resources or technology. Supporters snarl, “But Obama.” My grief and anger grow like a distraught friend in my house, … [read more]