Tag Archives: creative

My Patna’

I was fortunate enough to grow up in a loving household. I was even more fortunate to grow up with my paternal grandmother in that loving household – Ethel (her friends called her Peggy) Ouellette. Her maiden name was Williams … Continue reading

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Smoke and Mirrors

A light show, pockets of illumination in a sea of ice where I imagine whales dancing and the light pockets the spaces where they surface to breathe. The pockets stretch for miles and as far as I can see: a … Continue reading

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Rough cuts: A rare glimpse

I was feeling a bit musical and lonely tonight, so I picked up one of my good friends and had a chat. Apparently, I was also feeling brave. Please forgive the “rough cut,” including my vocal goofs, and overall volume/sync … Continue reading

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Where I’m from

From 3/31 poetry workshop.¬†We were asked to emulate a particular poem. As a “military brat” who moved every 4-5 years, this was the result: Where I’m from, the white sands look like snow on the sunniest of days – the … Continue reading

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Right Guard and Peppermint

From 3/31/2012. I wrote this at a poetry workshop after being asked to think about the place where I am the happiest. I was writing while sobbing. I miss my grandma so deeply and completely and, recently, this emptiness described … Continue reading

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white blossoms of yesterday

(I wrote this after an evening walk sometime in April.) The wind pushes at my back as it does the white blossoms from the early bloomed tree. They scatter around and in that moment, as the petals are seemingly suspended … Continue reading

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Mirror, Mirror

When I look in the mirror, I wonder if the image reflecting back is what you see. You don’t know me. There is a reversal, and the optimism I project seems to be rejected back. You don’t see me. All … Continue reading

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Fairies and Nymphs

Fairies and nymphs are gentle companions to my pain and pride. They abide by the rules of never-land, a place where your wildest desires are commonplace realities: replacing misfortune and erasing doubt with pixy dust and starlit nights. Loneliness is … Continue reading

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No choice necessary

This dress does not define what I can say. I may speak passionately about the smell of burning rubber at a drag race without irony. My make-up in no way covers up my intellect, nor should it lead you to … Continue reading

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Painting a snow desert in the skies

Upon flying into Houston, heading south from the Windy City, it occurs to me that I might have an idea as to what a desert of ice and snow may look like. The clouds in their vast population, stretching as … Continue reading

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