Thirty-one years ago I completely detached myself from society for a brief, exhilarating two and a half months.
I was young and rebellious traveling the State of Victoria with my reckless boyfriend, 8-years my senior. I must have looked a sight, but with no mirrors came no worries.
My jeans torn, hair unbrushed, feet more . . .
Posted in: about melife awakeningsself portraits
Butterfly Kiss Goodbye
The beauty in death
I had the strangest reaction to the final episode of 'The Big C'... a television show about a woman dying of cancer.
Besides being a teary eyed mess by the end of the episode, I woke up the next morning still crying!! The thought of her being gone. Leaving behind her teenage son. Her husband. Her brother. Family and loved . . .
Posted in: about melife muses
The day I crashed my own party!
It fascinates me how one innocent moment in my life. A moment that should have been fun, carefree and joyous, can turn into such a pivotal moment of regret for the rest of my life.
It all started with a simple decision.
A choice that I made when I was maybe 8 or 9 years old, that has clung to my memory like a parasite . . .
Posted in: about mechildhood storiesself portraits
The Age Old Battle
We all live it. Breathe it. Endure it. But do we ever accept it?
For me, it all started when I was 30. Until then it never crossed my mind. I think in some unrealistic, fantastical part of my brain I actually thought I was going to escape the process.
I was an anomaly. An exception to the rule. Aging didn't . . .
Posted in: about me
Connecting the Dots
Searching for life's purpose
At the time it seemed like such a ludicrous question.
What do you want to be when you grow up?
I scrunched up my nose and frowned. How could I possibly know the answer to that question? I hadn't even finished High School.
I looked at my dad and shrugged my shoulders, replying indignantly.. . .
Posted in: about me
The strength of a mother
I have always questioned life, my existence, and why I'm here.
Perhaps because I never knew my biological father, that I was a 60s baby born out of wedlock, that my mother's decision to keep me was not her first thought. That even though not yet fully formed I withstood her anguish, desperate actions, and held on.. . .
Posted in: about mepoetic riffs