Like a bleeding scab, Sara could pick until she pulled them apart. As with most stories, she had learned more about her self than she cared to. Sara knew too well what masks hid her scarred hide. An ache stirred that hadn’t since Jack came to stay. She thought about her grandfather and the tin… Continue Reading
Bones of Life
When Natalie Goldberg (Writing Down the Bones) wrote that we should write about what we love and create a space in which to do it, I thought choosing to write, giving myself permission to do it, and carving a space for it was not an issue for me. I was an English professor and was… Continue Reading
Resistance by Degrees
When I was a girl, questioning everything my mother told me to do or not to do, she said it was a phase. It was not. We may try on different identities, remake ourselves again and again – Madonna or David Bowie style, but self-identification is not something we are likely to outgrow – as… Continue Reading
Undercurrents 
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