If you were never among the privileged souls who spent some time with my dog and best friend Freida, please let me tell you about her now. We met outside of the HEB supermarket on the corner of Manchaca and Slaughter, August 2006. I was pulling into the parking lot when I saw a very animated family, a very large box, and a very big sign saying “Free Puppies.”
Less than 48 hours ago, Donald J. Trump became President-Elect. I join the majority of U.S. voters* who were knocked to our knees by this unexpected turn. Continue reading “Trump Won. I Wept. Then This Happened. Now What?”
September 11th creeps in under my radar and punches me in the solar plexus every year. Fifteen years ago, on a crystal clear morning in Austin, TX, I was dressing for work when the phone rang: “Turn on your TV,” said my friend. Within seconds, my jaw froze, my chest tightened, and my eyes burned. Then I joined the millions who wept loudly, feeling that wind and smoke scrape our veins.
Yes, those Monkees and their early-summer release, Good Times.
I’m not late to the party, though I’m certainly late to posting about the party—an ear candy party that popped in and out of my earbuds and speakers throughout the summer. A near-perfect pop album that always felt at once nostalgic and fresh. Every time it slipped into me I came to the same conclusion: Continue reading “The Monkees Kinda Brought the Summer”
I’ve never used this space to express political opinions, but ’tis the season, and in truth, I’m a bit of a junkie for the stuff. Mind you, I’m happiest when I pay exactly no attention to politics, but the stakes are awfully high this year. No one should put their head in the sand.
In my circle of acquaintances, I am the Queen of the To-Do List. I have a daily, weekly, and monthly list. Mostly, they serve me well. Occasionally they’re a big ball and chain, and I ignore them all for a week or more… until it’s clear that shit still needs to get done. Continue reading “Comparing To-Do Lists”
Creativity of one sort or another is in the DNA of my people. Visual arts, performing arts — the bases are covered on both sides of the gene pool. So one might assume that my sister and I have each had wild and lifelong experiences bopping around from discipline to discipline. Continue reading “Specialization Begins At Home”