“May you live in interesting times” is a great curse. “Interesting” is such a weighted word. I’d rather have come of age in less interesting times – the history I’ve lived through is full of such darkness. Vietmam. The explosions of the space shuttles. Various American wars. Tiananmen Square. 9/11. Lockerbie. Ecole Polytechnique. Sandy Hook. Sarin gas. And these are just off the top of … Continue reading When Misogyny Ends.
it happens against my wishes at times since my heart is determined to embrace bleakness and despairing too often, but the feet have a will of their own. a bit of base, a crash of drums, some keyboard and guitar; mingling melodies that vibrate and transmute until all is movement. the head dips and the shoulders roll, the torso swivels in counterpoint to the hips, … Continue reading dancing
I was eleven when the eating disorder that had been stalking me succeeded in capture. Eleven years old and convinced that all the wrong feelings, fears, and insecurities would vanish if I could just get thin enough for perfection and protection. I knew I would be proud of myself when that day came, and why not? Who wouldn’t love perfection? I was promised a multimodal … Continue reading Embracing eating disorder recovery.
I don’t have a list of rules for living kicking about the house, though I do have “The Desiderata” hanging on a wall in the garage. I just try to do the right thing. That’s it. “Do the right thing” is the principle that defines how I try to live. I don’t always do it well: my PTSD is currently active and what that looks … Continue reading Do the right thing – an off-the-cuff joint.
From Famine to Feast 