Morning light on the first day of the last month of 2018 reflecting off my rag doll’s skirt. A stack of tiny paper books are sewn to her left hand (not visible in this photo), faded pink bow to her hair. She was created to represent the courage of the Little Rock Nine and the spirit of hope. She was adopted from the DuSable Museum of African American History and gifted to me in 1999. I named her Abigail Louisa…. Keep Reading
Happiness is … spying a couple on Day 1 of their vow ’til death do us part.
I’m a descendant of the poet Jean Toomer.
My mother loves to laugh. Not quips, but ache-with-joy bouts of woman howling. Her giggle is a siren song that ripples out and grabs you.
After a few minutes, I was again 19 ditching morning classes with my boyfriend to make love and eat peanut butter and cracker sandwiches on the beach.
The most interesting thing about my book shelves is the deer head and antlers mounted just above shelves.
This is Fenty Beauty by Rihanna created to enhance the experience of showcasing all types and tones of skin.
Many of our gardens were obliterated during the back-to-back March nor’easters so it’s surprising to see so much goodness bursting through the summer soil.
And some days there are little bits of magic like blue sky caught in a bottle or sunlight on glass.
Remember Hull beach where we gathered shells the first semi-warm weekend last spring? We didn’t need coats and the tide was high, crashing and spilling beautiful cracked and whole shells at our feet. I was wearing bean boots and couldn’t move as quickly as you and fell prey to the undertow – feet and shoes sinking like hot stones through sand – when the water crested and rushed up to my knees. My thick cotton pants and feet full of… Keep Reading